Jasper Redux
by Bridgette Irish
Summary: Hermione awakens one night to a strange sound outside her chambers. What she finds that night in the halls of Hogwarts will change her life forever.
1. Part I

NOTICE: It's been pointed out to me in a number of reviews that I missed several pronoun changes from my original story. How embarrassing. It's unforgiveable, and I'm sorry. I do not have a beta so all mistakes are mine. This is the new and improved chapter. I do hope you don't abandon me for these errors. I will strive to do better in future. Thanks so much for reading. This is why reviews are so important. I take each and every one to heart.

Disclaimer: It's J.K. Rowling's sandbox. I just come over to play. I make no money from this work.

A/N: Full disclosure, my previous FFNet pseudonym was TigerLily28. I pretty much stopped writing and have recently gotten the itch again, so I opened a new account and am writing under a new name. I went back and read some of those old TigerLily28 stories and this one still spoke to me, however, it was written during my awkward straight years and abandoned. I tried to pair Hermione with Lupin (shudder) I'm not sure why I'm drawn to the Hermione/Minerva pairing and the age difference freaks me out a little bit, but I can't get enough of reading them, so I'm rewriting my TigerLily28 story, Jasper, into a Hermione/Minerva fic. I am also making the storyline slightly less complicated but hopefully just as magical. Please R/R so I know if I'm on the right track.

Jasper - Chapter 1

The sound woke her from a fitful sleep. She'd fallen asleep on her sofa again, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the sheer dullness of the fifth years' History of Magic essays she had been trying diligently to grade. As much as she hated to admit it, fifth year History of Magic was about as exciting as watching flobberworms grow. Most of the curriculum is the History of the Ministry of Magic and the pointless arguments therein. She dismissed the sound. It was just a dream, she thought. The baby dreams had become more frequent and more vivid. It was not unusual for Hermione to awake with the sound of a baby's cries echoing in her mind.

She glanced at the clock which, to her despair read, "Time to finish grading essays." She sat up, and with a yawn, took up her discarded quill.

Then she heard the sound again, quieter this time, but just as clear. There was no mistaking that this was no dream. There was a baby crying in the hall outside her chambers.

Odd, she thought, there are no babies at Hogwarts. In fact, to her knowledge, none of the Hogwarts teachers had any children at all. The situation warranted an investigation, and it sure beat grading essays.

She stood and started towards the door. Immediately she noticed the absence of the warmth being away from the fire. The chill easily penetrated her loose fitting pajamas. The crimson silk covered her from ankle to wrist but didn't do much to keep out the drafty castle air. She threw the afghan she'd been wrapped in around her shoulders and tentatively left her chamber. Hearing the foreign sound of the obviously unhappy infant echo down the corridor nearly broke her heart and she headed toward the noise.

The sight that awaited her when she turned the corner charmed her to her toes. Standing with her back to the cold stone wall, cradling a squirming bundle in her arms was an exhausted looking Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

Hermione took a brief moment to bask in the vision before her. Minerva was exhausted, yes, disheveled, yes, at the end of her wits, yes, but still elegant and statuesque, her firm presence filling the narrow corridor. And with a baby tucked in her arms, Hermione thought she had never looked more beautiful.

Another sharp cry from the tiny stranger shook Hermione from her musings.

"Minerva?" she asked as she crossed to her and reached for one arm, drawing the woman's attention, cinnamon eyes met mossy green for only a second before Hermione's focus dropped to the squalling child. "Okay, I'm going to bypass all of the obvious questions and ask the most immediate one. Can I help you?" She instinctively reached out to gather the child in her arms.

Minerva didn't put up much of a fight, except to wearily say, "You don't have to do that Hermione," even as she allowed her to remove the baby from her arms.

But Hermione barely heard her. She was so wrapped up in the infant cuddled against her. Minerva could have been playing bagpipes in her altogethers and Hermione wouldn't have noticed. The baby was still squirming and crying, obviously uncomfortable. Hermione quietly drew her wand and whispered a quiet charm.  
"Relaxo Pressum"

Almost immediately the child quieted, settled and within a few minutes was sleeping soundly.

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Hermione reluctantly tore her adoring gaze from the baby and their eyes met even as a tear made its way slowly down her cheek. Her voice broke as she answered. "Just a simple relief charm. Colicky babies sometimes need more than a little burp. I learned it during my apprenticeship at St. Mungo's." She returned her focus to the bundle and she wiped another tear from her cheek.

"Hermione, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Minerva wanted to reach out to her, but thought better of it. Instead, she crossed the corridor and leaned against the opposite wall next to Hermione, glancing sidelong at her.

Hermione lifted her eyes to her and smiled, the happy twinkle in her eye was new. Minerva had never seen it before. "Boy or girl?" she asked simply.

"A lad" answered Minerva, "His name is Jasper."

"Jasper" Hermione breathed, returning her undivided attention to him, "Beautiful"

"Aye," agreed Minerva, unsure whether she was talking about the baby, or the woman.

She watched Hermione watching Jasper and was struck at how beautiful and natural the scene was. There she stood, wrapped in a blanket against the stone wall of a hallway in her red silk pajama pants and for a second Minerva considered telling her that one of the buttons on the matching silk shirt was undone, but decided not to disturb her. Snuggled safely in her arms was this mystery of a child, wrapped in a sea green blanket, breathing easily and sleeping peacefully. But for all the wackiness of the situation, Hermione seemed completely at home. She looked perfect. Almost ethereal.

They stood in silence for several more minutes before Hermione looked up and realized what had been going on. "Oh, Minerva, I'm sorry. I don't know why I reacted to him this way." She sniffed. "It's probably just because it's late, and I'm tired, and little Jasper here is quite a bit more interesting than the stack of essays waiting in my sitting room."

"You're very good with him," the Headmistress said quietly, "you seemed to know what was wrong before you even touched him. It was quite amazing."

"The way he was moving," she explained, "it was obvious he was in pain. But no harm done, he's fine, see?" she looked down and her eyes shimmered again. She tucked the sleeping baby gently back into Minerva's arms. "He's perfect." She finished with reverence.

"Aye, when he isna squalling." Minerva smiled, her brogue seeming more pronounced in the quiet hallway.

"Minerva, if you don't mind my asking, how on earth did an infant boy come under your care?"

There was a flash of something in her eyes. Sadness? Anger? Fear? Minerva became uncomfortable. She gently straightened up to her full height. "It's time." She said under her breath before addressing Hermione. "Come to my rooms for tea tomorrow after classes Miss Granger. Now that you've met Jasper, I believe there is no longer any reason to withhold the truth from you. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest. The essays will hold until tomorrow, aye?"

"Miss Granger? You haven't called me Miss Granger in years. Minerva? What's going on? Why can't you tell me now?"

Minerva had gently steered Hermione back to the portrait guarding her rooms. "Tomorrow. Hermione. I promise. Get some sleep." At her door she turned to face Minerva and looked down at Jasper, still sound asleep. She swept a gentle hand across his forehead and whispered a soft "Goodnight" the tears threatening again as her eyes met Minerva's

The elder witch gave weak smile, gave the younger's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, gathered the blanket tail and made her way back down the corridor.

"Let me know if you need anything else." She said just loud enough to be heard. Her lonely voice echoed down the corridor, but Minerva didn't turn around.

Hermione entered her chambers, took her boss's advice and left the essays for later. She folded the blanket neatly on the back of the sofa and crawled into bed. She went to sleep thinking about Jasper. What is he doing here? Why is Minerva playing mum all of a sudden? Why did I react the way I did when I held him? Her questions all remained unanswered.

Jasper - Chapter 2

Hermione woke early the next morning and finished grading essays. Glad to have it done, she headed to the Great Hall. She had an hour before the second year Hufflepuffs invaded her classroom. It was a great way to start her Friday, Hufflepuffs are sweet and this particular batch were particularly inquisitive. They wanted her to teach them things, and because Ancient Chinese Dragon Lore was one of the most enjoyable units in her entire curriculum. She looked forward to getting started.

She sat down in her usual spot at the Head Table and poured a glass of pumpkin juice. She helped herself to a Belgian waffle, smothered generously with butter and maple syrup. She looked around, hoping to see that Minerva had brought Jasper to breakfast with her, but she knew that the baby was probably a secret and showing up in the Great Hall with him would be opening some sort of Pandora's Box that Minerva would just as soon avoid.

Classes went smoothly, but Hermione was anxious to get through them. She was looking forward to seeing Jasper again and whatever Minerva had to tell her was obviously very important.

She softly muttered "Ginger Newts" into the stone statue and stepped on the staircase with trepidation.

The Headmistress was sitting at her desk, writing diligently with an elegant pheasant feather quill. She'd obviously had a bit of a rough afternoon. Wisps of black hair had escaped her standard bun and a rosy flush colored her cheeks, as though whatever she was writing had her dander up.

"Good afternoon, Headmistress. I'm here for tea, as requested."

Minerva looked up briefly. "Come in Hermione. Please have a seat by the fire. I'll be with you momentarily."

"Actually, Minerva, if you don't mind, could I peek in on Jasper while I wait?"

The Headmistress's head popped up again, her eyes darkened and the flush on her cheeks deepened. "I'm sorry, Hermione, he's no longer here. He's gone back. Home."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she approached the large desk. "You're a terrible liar, Minerva. You always have been."

A slender hand drew her spectacles from her nose and the embattled Headmistress let out a deep sigh. "Actually, Miss Granger, I am an exceptional liar, except, apparently, around you. Now please. I must speak with you and it is best not done in the presence of the bairn. If you would just – "

It was that moment that a serendipitous wail echoed through the office from the private rooms beyond.

Hermione saw red and stormed toward the door leading to the inner chamber. Minerva beat her there and took her firmly by both arms, attempting to dissuade her from entering.

"No, Minerva, get your hands off me. I don't know what's going on with that baby, but it obviously has something to do with me. I refuse to ignore a crying baby, so I'm going to see to Jasper, and you're going to let me. Then, we're going to sit down and you're going to tell me everything. Excuse me." And she was off.

"Hermione." but it was no use. Hermione returned to the front room, a now happy Jasper cooing in her arms, and on her face was the same look of reverent adoration he'd seen the night before. Minerva sighed and shook her head. This was going to be hard, really, really hard.

Hermione sat in the antique wooden rocking chair in the hopes that a gentle rocking would put Jasper back to sleep. She, of course, was right. Within a few minutes the baby was snoring softly and a permanent lump had settled in Hermione's throat as she fought back tears. Why do I feel this connection to him? She asked herself for the millionth time. She knew that Minerva held the answer in that mysterious countenance, so she looked at her expectantly. "Well, Headmistress, I'm waiting. Start explaining."

Minerva shook her head, suddenly filled with anxiety. "Where to begin."

"Begin at the beginning. I need to know why you've been put in charge of him. Why did you feel the need to lie to me? And why, when I look at him do I feel like my life finally makes sense?" her voice cracked at this last question and she resumed her adoration of the sleeping child. "I know you know, Minerva, and I can stay here all night."

"Hermione, look at me." She did. "Hermione," she paused, unsure if she should actually start down this road. She knelt next to the rocking chair so she could see Jasper's face, "Jasper is your son."

Jasper - Chapter 3

The room was painfully silent, but only for a second. Almost immediately the sound of the palm of her hand landing with almost supernatural force across the Headmistress's left cheek echoed throughout the room.

SMACK!

The force of impact threw her backwards and she landed ungracefully on her arse. Hermione tore from the room. Fortunately, Jasper hadn't awoken and she was able to lay him gently in his crib before she lost complete control on the anger roiling through her.

What on earth would possess her to tell such horrible lies. To tell her something that was obviously impossible; which couldn't be true. How does one even make up something like that? That perfect infant couldn't be hers. And even if it WERE true, that baby is months old. How could this be kept from her for so long? Had she ever planned on telling her? Was Hermione just supposed to go through life never knowing that that perfect baby boy was hers? Was he hers? Could it be true?

Hermione was pacing now, wringing her hands and running them through her hair. She was muttering incoherently to herself, trying desperately to clear her thoughts, trying to make sense of each new pang of hurt threatening to overtake her.

Minerva chose that time to approach her. "Hermione." she said tentatively. She didn't hear her. "Hermione." Again no answer. "HERMIONE!" she said forcefully and she looked up into mossy green eyes. Her entire being radiated contempt.

"Please let me explain" she softened her voice now that she had her attention.

"Piss off!" she exclaimed. Minerva was taken aback. "You don't get to talk right now. How could you? I don't know what you're playing at, but if this is true and you somehow kept it from me, you deserve the Unforgivable Curse I'm about to cast on you. And if it isn't true, and you are lying - "At this she began to pull her wand from beneath her robes, "What would possess you to tell such a monstrous falsehood? What kind of twisted mind can even fabricate such a lie?" she raised her wand and pointed it at the taller woman, now standing stock still in the bedchamber. "How did you know, Minerva?" The older witch began to approach the younger hesitantly, so as not to alarm her. She was serious about hexing her into next week, and now she wasn't making sense. Know what? She continued her rant. "How could you possibly know how badly I want to be a mother? The dreams, God the constant dreams. The hollow ache, it never goes away." At this point Hermione had drawn completely into herself as though she weren't even addressing Minerva anymore. Her hands were in her hair and she was shaking her head. "To exploit something so precious, so personal? How could this be true?" By now Minerva had reached Hermione, had removed her wand from her hand without her noticing and was trying to get her attention once again. She reacted violently. She pushed her away. "Get your hands of me! Don't touch me MCGONAGALL! To let me love that boy and tell me something like this!" She was struggling against a taller, firmer figure, but the figure wasn't letting go. Her fists were flying, landing willy- nilly on chest and arms. "I can't believe this. I thought we were friends. I came to you when I needed help. When Ron left me. When I could barely get out of bed. I trusted you. LET GO DAMMIT!" she struggled more and Minerva held on tighter, she was practically incoherent. Her face was red and tears covered her cheeks. "Why? I don't understand. Why would you? How can I?" her fists were landing harder. "It's not 's NOT! It's 's 's not." With this last statement she collapsed against a solid form, violent sobs wracking her body. She allowed strong arms to envelop her. Minerva stroked her back silently as she cried, trying diligently to hold back her own tears. She was unsuccessful. They streamed with abandon down her face and into chestnut curls.

A half an hour later found them curled up with each other in an overstuffed arm chair next to the very spot the outburst had taken place. Hermione sat curled into Minerva's side, cheek resting on a bony shoulder, hiccoughing quietly in her sleep. Thin, strong, hands gently stroked her back, her cheeks, her hair.

Neither of them had brought up the subject of Ron's infidelity and departure since the day Hermione had showed up at the gates of Hogwarts, broken and alone, in the Highland rain, five years ago. They'd had a long night of talking, mostly Hermione telling Minerva of her disastrous marriage, the loss of her apprenticeship when she missed two weeks of work and her subsequent messy divorce. Minerva had offered Hermione a job teaching History of Magic and they had never spoken of it again. The first three years, Hermione had practically hermited herself in the castle. She taught classes, marked essays, ate, slept and watched after the students. She read every book in the library and had tea with Minerva every Saturday afternoon, but they never spoke of Ron. Two years ago, Ron had shown up at the gates and Minerva was prepared to hex him across the Forbidden Forest before Hermione turned up, placed a gentle hand on her wand arm, and heard Ron out.

The friendship was tenuous, at best, but "under construction" as Hermione liked to say. Minerva had never forgiven Ron. She could never forget the haunted look in those cinnamon eyes that night in the rain. But slowly, over the next two years, she watched as Hermione came back into her own. She watched her grow into a strong, sturdy, empowered, lively, beautiful witch. And now, Minerva thought, as she stroked the curls falling through her fingers, I've broken her all over again.


	2. Part II

Notice: Damn, it happened again. I uploaded the wrong chapter from my docs. One that still had pieces of my old story on it. This one is correct. Don't give up on me. I'll get the hang of it. Try this one. It's better, I promise. No yucky straight sex.

See part 1 for Disclaimer

Jasper - Chapter 4

Hermione woke after about an hour. Without looking at Minerva, she got up, went into the bedroom to check on Jasper and returned wrapped in a tartan throw. She sat herself on the rocker away from Minerva and stared into the fire. She hadn't said a word.

After a few minutes the Headmistress began to be concerned and as she rose to make a move towards her, to try to pull some kind of response from her, Hermione held up a hand and shook her head, contempt burning in her eyes.

Minerva stopped in her tracks, never taking her green eyes from pained brown ones.

"I'm listening," Hermione stated quietly, folding her hand into a fist and laying it softly in her lap.

Minerva knew this was her cue to begin explaining. First she crossed to a small cabinet next to the fireplace, poured two fingers of firewhiskey into each of two tumblers and handed one to Hermione, careful to keep at arm's length.

Hermione remained silent, tucking the glass next to her sternum and snuggling deeper into the tartan.

"His full name is Jasper Horatio Granger, he was born on July 5 at 2:09 am. That makes him just over 3 months old. At birth he weighed 8 lbs. 3 oz. and was 22 inches long. He had to be delivered by fetal apparition as you were in a magically induced coma your entire pregnancy.

The color drained from Hermione's face and she took a fortifying sip of her firewhiskey, the taste making her cringe. "Continue."

Minerva swept a lock of black hair from her face. She was concerned with Hermione's cold demeanor, but did as she was bade.

"Last October, you were supervising the first Hogsmeade weekend for the students. You were kidnapped, drug to the shrieking shack, and assaulted." The last word was said in a whisper and suddenly, the brave, Gryffindor leader, couldn't meet Hermione's eyes.

"And by assaulted you mean –"

"Raped, yes."

Hermione let out a shuddering breath and bent at the waist, curling into herself.

Minerva leapt to her feet, grabbed the whiskey glass and set it on the floor before it could fall and drew the now shaking young woman to her. Hermione thrust out a hand, bracing herself against Minerva's hip, still bent over, attempting to draw breath. "Please, Minerva. Go on. The rest. Please"

Minerva squeezed the hand at her hip, backed away and sat back down.

"You were also beaten, tortured and struck with an extraordinarily powerful memory charm. That's why you don't remember any of this. In your mind, you spent those 10 months teaching classes as usual and visiting your parents over the summer holiday. When you woke up in St. Mungo's a month after Jasper was born, I asked what you remembered.

You told me you remember falling from a broomstick while playing Quiddich at the Burrow. It was then we knew your memories had been tampered with. The healers tried to lift the charm, but whomever cast it was far more powerful than the students who took you. They had help.

"And why am I only now being told? How long had you planned on waiting? Until Jasper graduated from Hogwarts?"

Minerva polished off her whiskey and stood to pour another. "The memory specialists at St. Mungo's insisted that you either come back to your memories on your own, or we find a way to lift the charm. They said telling you of your ordeal would be more damaging. I disagreed, and told them so a number of times, but in the end, I told them I'd give them some time. I've done so, and now it is time you knew."

"The memory specialists at St. Mungo's are self-important idiots, and I told them so when I worked there. They find satisfaction in holding the futures and pasts of memory disabled patients in their grasp. It's disgusting."

"Aye" stated the elder witch, sipping at her whiskey.

"Students?"

Minerva nodded. Your brave Gryffindors caught three seventh year Slytherins sneaking out of the Shrieking Shack and sent a patronus to the castle, then detained them until Poppy, Rolanda and Hagrid were able to get there. Sebastian Clifton, Rudolf McCaffrey and Alfred Nosh are in Azkaban, awaiting trial. All three are age of majority.

Hermione shuddered and swallowed the bile in her throat. "You said they had help?" she asked shakily.

At this, Minerva's hand began to shake, so she set the tumbler on a table and twisted her hands in her lap. "By the time Hagrid entered the shack, he saw a dark figure disappear through the back door and disapparate from the moor behind the shack. He couldna see who it was. You were – " Minerva's voice caught in her throat and she couldn't go on. A tear rolled down her cheek and she dug her fingernails into her palms, willing herself to continue. Hermione deserved to know, "unconscious. We got you to St. Mungo's. Diagnostics determined what had happened to you, but could not determine who. The boys' memories have been altered as well, so they don't respond to veritaserum. They have been cleared of the assault and are only being charged with your kidnapping. The person responsible for your – rape," she ground the word out through her teeth as though it was poisonous, "got away."

Hermione bolted. "I think I'm going to be sick" and she tore from the room.

Minerva buried long fingers in black tresses and breathed through her anger, pain and guilt. She gave Hermione a few minutes before following her into the loo.

The young witch sat on the stone floor, head against the wall with the back of her hand against her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks in continuous rivulets. She leaned over the bowl and wretched again, spurring Minerva into action. She wet a washcloth with cool water, lifted Hermione's riotous brown curls from her face and placed the cool cloth on the back of her neck. Hermione's stomach was empty, but still revolting. Minerva breathed a sigh of relief as she finally sat back against the stone wall, arms crossed over her stomach, and wept openly.

All Minerva could do was push hair from her eyes and wipe the sweat from her brow with the cool cloth until Hermione came to herself enough to push the elegant, gentle hands away as she turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

"You should have told me."

"I know"

"Then why didn't you."

"I was afraid"

"Liar"

"It's true."

"Liar! You're never afraid"

"Oh, my dear, I promise you that's not true"

"You've never let fear stop you from doing what's right."

"This time was different."

"Why?"

"Please don't has me that?"

"WHY?"

"Because it was my fault!"

At this Hermione stopped, cocked her head to the side like a curious dog, and waited.

"You filled in for me in Hogsmeade that day. You weren't supposed to be there, but I had a personal errand to run, so I asked for you to take my place. If I hadn't shirked my duty, you would have never been there, none of this would have – "

"Stop."

"I'm so sorry."

"Stop."

"Hermione."

"Minerva! Stop!"

She stopped. And pursed her lips together, waiting for the young witch's response.

"I won't sit here and listen to you beat yourself up over something you had no knowledge of or responsibility for. I can't attempt to heal from this and deal with your guilt and shame too, so just stop. Please."

Minerva nodded and opened her mouth to speak. It was that moment that the chambers were filled with the shrill cry of a three month old baby.

Hermione gasped and braced herself to rise.

Minerva held out a hand indicating she'd take care of it. She disappeared for a moment and came back in with Jasper over her shoulder and a bottle in her hand. Without having to ask she gently deposited the baby on Hermione's lap, cast a subtle warming charm on the bottle and placed it against the baby's rosebud mouth. Jasper began sucking voraciously and Hermione's heart swelled. However he was created, the love she felt for him was real, and that could not be taken away from her.

Minerva turned to return to the sitting room to give mother and child some privacy, but Hermione's gentle hand on her forearm stopped her. Small, delicate fingers curled found long slim ones "Sit with us Minerva? Please?"

It was all the invitation she needed and she sat apprehensively next to Hermione, on the stone floor of the loo, but she relaxed considerably when Jasper was shifted just enough so that a bushy head lay gently on her shoulder. Older witch moved closer to younger, tucked a steady arm around her shoulder smiled into brown curls.

Hermione's voice pulled her from her reverie. "What's this?" she asked. She was pulling at a chain around Jasper's neck. Minerva stiffened. Hermione continued. "I have one just like it, she said pulling on her own chain. An amulet hung on the end, a smooth red stone set in the center. It was identical to the one Jasper wore. "What does this mean Minerva?"

End Chapter 4 TBC


	3. Part III

Notes: I have been rightfully chided and am properly abashed for my mistakes on the opening two updates to this story. I'd like to move past it and look forward to sharing what I've got in future without the cloud of my mistakes following me. That said, I expect to be called out in future if such grievous errors occur again. I tried to repair the damage in a timely manner. I hope this slightly longer update goes a small way to make up for it. I am rather proud of these chapters. Please enjoy.

More Notes: I have not read Pottermore, so Minerva's backstory, you will find, has nothing whatsoever to do with whatever is written in Pottermore, bits of which I have only gleaned from fanfiction and the odd podcast.

Even more Notes: For those of you keeping track, this has gone completely away from my original story and will likely continue to. At this point the only truly recognizable element is Jasper himself.

Part 1 for disclaimer.

Chapter 5

"A gift," the Headmistress spoke softly, reaching out for Jasper's amulet and holding it next to Hermione's, "for you and the bairn. They were given to you in St. Mungo's. You weren't waking up, and the healers were out of ideas. The amulets are made of red jasper, a very old stone, and are charmed to protect each other. The hope was that putting one on each of you would pull you from your coma. And it worked, didn't it wee Jasper?" Minerva bent over the babe and allowed a tiny fist to curl around her long fingers as he fed. "Mummy woke the next day, didn't she, and that's how you got your name, aye?"

Hermione melted as she watched Minerva bond with her son. Some of those raven black hairs tickled her nose and she lifted her hand and gently brushed them aside. "Minerva, the amulets were from you, weren't they."

The normally stoic woman smiled at the toothless grin Jasper gave her through his bottle but did not look up. "Aye lass," she whispered. "They were."

It was the permission Hermione needed to lay her free hand fully on the back of that raven head and smooth the wisps down. "Thank you."

Jasper - Chapter 6

Weeks passed, then months. Hermione moved Jasper's crib, toys and baby flotsam into her rooms on the 3rd floor and settled into somewhat of a routine.

The entire Hogwarts staff rejoiced as Jasper learned to sit, roll over, and crawl. It had been so long since such a young life had graced the corridors of the old drafty castle, the boy was like a breath of fresh air. At six months, Jasper began summoning things from other rooms, at 8 months, he got his "Uncle Filius" stuck on the ceiling of the Great Hall, amongst the stars, to the delight of a great many students.

A week later he pulled himself up on the tea table, in the Headmistress's sitting room at the coaxing of two very doting women. He let go and wobbled on unsteady chubby legs for a few seconds before collapsing to the floor on his rump. The women waited with baited breath to see if Jasper would laugh or cry, when he reached up to his mother with an exuberant "Mama!" and crawled to her. Minerva had to lift the boy from Hermione's arms as the latter could no longer see through her tears.

But throughout the months, after trying every possible method, visiting dozens of specialists, and being questioned by the Wizengamot, Hermione Granger seemed no closer to regaining her memories.

She grew increasingly frustrated as she was repeatedly summoned to the Ministry to undergo fruitless questioning and increasingly invasive investigations with which she could offer no assistance. It was always the same. She would arrive at the Wizengamot chamber only to be asked the same questions she was unable to answer on her previous visits.

"No, I cannot remember the assault," she couldn't bring herself to say 'rape.' The word died in her throat every time she tried.

"No, I am unable to identify any of the parties involved in my capture and attack."

"No, I have no lasting, physical scars that could be clues to the identity of my assailant," she would practically whisper, holding in her tears.

She would subsequently, each time, be led from the chamber, escorted to an exam room and was poked, prodded and generally worked over until the examiners were, once again, satisfied that Hermione was indeed without her memory.

She would arrive home from these visits drained and depressed, pass Jasper to Minerva for the evening and fall, exhausted and fully clothed onto her bed, only to cry herself to sleep.

There was a small piece of Hermione that almost did not want to remember. As it was, the attack was outside of herself, as though it happened to someone else. She didn't have any lasting scars and was left only with the incredible gift of Jasper, without the reminder of how he was begotten. This was safe and comfortable. Regaining her memories could destroy her and Hermione wondered often if it wouldn't be better to leave them buried. But the Ministry persisted.

It was at breakfast on a warm Sunday in late March that Hermione received a Ministry owl summoning her once again to the Wizengamot on Friday next. She squeezed the parchment in her fist, gathered her resolve, stood silently and stalked from the Great Hall, plucking Jasper from his floating booster chair on her way out. The rest of the faculty let her go, recognizing both the ministry tag on the owl and the defeated look in the small woman's eyes.

That afternoon Minerva entered Hermione's private rooms and paused, briefly to lean on the stone threshold to take in the scene. Jasper played contentedly with a stuffed owl that flapped its wings when Jasper clapped and lifted itself a few feet into the air. He was surrounded by the faintly opaque bubble of a protego charm, giggling softly. His mother, by contrast was on her hands and knees on the hearth of the fireplace, scrubbing the hearthstones the muggle way with a scrub brush and a bucket of sudsy water. Her back was to the tall, stately intruder and wild curls defiantly exploded from behind a cloth band, keeping the hair from a sweaty forehead. She looked wonderfully disheveled.

Minerva took several stealthy steps into the room and as softly as possible stated, "Hermione"

A completely startled Hermione shot from her stooped position with a startled "Ack!" and promptly whacked her head on the top of the fireplace above her head. As quickly as she had stood, she collapsed back to her knees, cradling her injured head with an angry groan.

"Oh, Merlin, Hermione, I'm so sorry. Are you alright, dear?" Minerva leapt to her side, pulling hands from the top of her head so she could inspect for permanent injuries.

"Bloody Hell, Minerva! You do know you are not actually a cat, right? You can't just sneak up on people like that. Shite, that hurt." She said shaking off Minerva's gentle ministrations.

"Well, believe it or not, I was trying not to scare you, dear. Do you need the hospital wing? You don't appear to be permanently damaged."

"No, I'll be alright." Hermione stood, throwing the scrub brush into the bucket with a sloshy 'plop' and made her way over to Jasper, releasing the protego charm and lifting him to her, one hand still rubbing the top of her head.

As Jasper's 'play pen' disintegrated, several things happened at once. The jasper stone medallions hanging around mother and son's pale necks glowed red and heated gently, Jasper laid smooth stubby fingers on Hermione's face, the pain in Hermione's head lessened quickly and then was gone and Hermione stumbled and braced herself against the closest wall.

Minerva strode to her, pulling her upright by an elbow. "Alright?" Their eyes locked momentarily and Hermione nodded.

"I think he healed me."

"Likely, yes, or rather the stones did. They protect each other, and so, by extension, the wearers."

Another nod, and the young witch collected herself. "Thanks, little man," she said to lighten the mood. It worked and Minerva changed the subject.

"Hermione, are you aware there are spells that could do these sorts of house chores for you?" Minerva rose a curious eyebrow at her.

"Oh, really. I had no idea." She said testily and smirked at Minerva's eye roll. "I am my mother's daughter," she continued. "My Muggle mother's daughter. Therefore, I clean when I am stressed and cleaning the muggle way allows for more time and energy by which to release said stress." At this a twinkle entered her eye. "Besides, Professor, there are just some things that are more thorough and satisfying when done without magic." She winked and turned her attention to her son, who was now fussing a bit.

Minerva could not explain the heated flush that began deep in her chest and raced up to her head and down to her feet, simultaneously causing her to catch her breath and lose her footing. She sat in a convenient chair by the fire to cover the weakness in her knees. She missed Hermione's throaty chuckle as she sauntered from the room to get Jasper's bottle.

The tall, stately witch was still folded into the armchair when the young mother re-entered the room with Jasper on one arm holding his own bottle and a precariously balanced tea tray on the other. "Tea?" she asked, pulling her companion from her woolgathering. Minerva nodded absently and stood to assist Hermione before she spilled hot tea down her front.

When all were situated and the only sound was Jasper's quiet sucking, Minerva spoke tentatively. "We'll have to wean him from the bottle soon."

"We?" Hermione pressed.

"You."

Hermione smiled sweetly and shrugged. "All the books say I'll know when it's time. Soon, I suppose, but I'm not ready for him to stop being a baby yet."

Minerva nodded.

"You didn't come here today and nearly brain me to talk about rearing my son, did you?"

Inky black waves shook back and forth, nearly obscuring the normally proud face. Hermione waited patiently.

"You received another summons from the Ministry this morning, did you not?"

"I did."

"I had an… idea," she still did not look up, but continued. "about how to reverse your memory charm." She took a deep fortifying breath. "I'd like you to join me for Beltane."

Hermione did not hide her surprise. "Baltane? Blimey, Minerva, I never pegged you for the type."

"Type?"

"To dance round fires wearing naught but the moonlight," the young woman took pleasure in the pink tinge on the elder's cheek and pressed on. "The last time I celebrated Beltane was the spring after the war ended. We were rebuilding Hogwarts and the lot of us met in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest and lit the ritual fires. It was rather, well, debaucherous is the only fitting word, really." Her voice held no hint of shame or embarrassment, but she once again was pleased by the full blush that now covered the pale face of the usually unflappable Minerva McGonagall.

Minerva went suddenly daft, rendered so both by surprise at the thought that this well-mannered young woman would participate in such activities and at the concept of a thoroughly debauched Hermione.

"You aren't, by chance, asking me on a date, are you, Minerva, because as first dates go, it might be skipping a few essential steps." Hermione was just having fun with her friend now and it was causing the woman across the room to become increasingly disconcerted.

When she did speak, what came out was mostly incoherent mumbles. "No, dear, that's not what I – I mean not that I wouldn't, but – it's only that I – I never really, you can't think that – I thought it might help," she finished finally with a huff. "Well congratulations, Miss Granger, you've rendered me speechless."

Hermione giggled, putting them both at ease. "Relax, Cassanova. I was joking. Help with what?"

"Your memories," she answered, regaining her composure and getting to the point. "The fertility aspect of Beltane is only part of the overall ritual, and of course the aspect most famously focused on, particularly by young witches and wizards who are far too young to understand the consequences," she chided gently with a pointed look.

Hermione looked abashed, but kept smiling and shrugged.

Minerva continued. "Beltane is one of a few times of year where the fabric between our physical world and the worlds of other spaces, times and realities is the thinnest. It is during these times that it is often possible to cross these barriers and step into other worlds, or sometimes bring objects, people, thoughts or, even memories," she said pointedly, "into our own. There is no guarantee, you understand, but I believe with the correct ritual and a few well-spoken spells, we may be able to retrieve the memory of what happened to you that night."

Hermione nodded, thinking. "And you know these rituals and spells, do you?"

"As the daughter of an Avalon priestess, aye, I was taught them at a very young age, and participated in them during visits to my mother."

It was Hermione's turn to be surprised. "You GREW UP on Avalon!?"

"Only until I went to Hogwarts. Then I went to live with my father in the Highlands. I visited my mother a couple of times a year for Beltane and Yule, but didn't see her much outside of the festivals."

Hermione was agape. "There is much you keep hidden under that pointy hat, Headmistress."

"Weel," she started, her brogue coming out in full from her reminiscing. "A lass hasta keep a bit of mystery about her, aye?"

At this, Hermione laughed out loud. "Aye."

After a few moments of pensive silence, a soft, determined voice stated, "Let's give it a try."

Minerva nodded and stood, suddenly all business. "I'll prepare everything, you needn't worry about the details, though knowing you I'm sure you'll find some time for a library visit or two," she smiled. "We'll meet in my rooms at 10:00 pm on April 30. The ritual begins at midnight."

Hermione nodded and stood to see her guest out. Minerva reached out to stroke a brown curl from the forehead of the now sleeping Jasper and planted a sweet kiss where the lock of hair was. It was a ritual that had started each time the three parted company and for the first time Hermione wondered if it was really Jasper Minerva wanted to bestow that kiss upon.

Minerva turned to leave but Hermione stopped her with her strong voice. "I'll need help, you know."

Minerva turned back, but did not speak, willing the young woman to continue.

"With him," she stepped forward. "With weaning him – raising him. I can't do it alone. It would be alright, you know, if it was… a – a We"

Minerva bravely held in the tears that stung her mossy green eyes. She didn't trust her voice, but she smiled, reached out a slim hand and laid it on Hermione's smooth cheek. She gave one brief nod and swept from the room, leaving her young companion looking down the corridor as the tail of a green robe disappeared around the corner.


	4. Part IV

A/N: This is a very short update, but it is important to get this up as a lead-in to better stuff. Thanks so much for your reviews. I think you all know how important honest feedback is. Keep 'em comin'.

Chapter 7

April passed quickly, interrupted only by a minor, but memorable incident involving Hogwart's youngest resident.

True to Minerva's prediction, Hermione was spending as much of her free time as she could buried in the library among her beloved books. Most of these hours, she would sit Jasper under the library table at her feet with one of her famous floating balls of light and a muggle toy piano, charmed so only Jasper could hear it play. She was intent on finding as much information as possible regarding Beltane rituals. Some of what she found caused a warm flush to flood her system. Even her wild Beltane in the forest 10 years ago didn't compare to some of the downright wicked things contained within those pages. She was fairly sure the ritual Minerva had in mind did not include anything like that, but Hermione was nothing if not prepared, so she persevered through the sweaty palms and pounding heart and let her imagination run away with thoughts of she and Minerva… together… by a fire… in the moonlight… in the forest… alone…

She was so warm from head to toe that she didn't notice the subtle warmth centered on the amulet resting on her sternum, just between her breasts, but she was pulled from her thoughts by the red glow emanating from beneath her robes. "Oh, Merlin. Jasper!"

Upon finding the space under the table empty, Hermione bolted from the library and down the corridor. "Jasper!" she screamed. She shot a patronus down the hallway, hoping that the first person it collided with had seen her wayward son. "Jasper!"

Relief flooded her chest when she heard the signature giggle of a baby who just discovered something new. She whirled around and darted down the other direction. The knot in her stomach returned when she saw her crawling baby at the bottom of a staircase which was, to Hermione's horror, not attached to a landing at the other end. The baby's hand slipped and he tumbled the last few steps over the end of the unattached staircase into thin air.

"No!" screamed Hermione, fumbling for her wand, but as she held out her hand, Jasper froze in mid-air, floating as though she had cast an 'immobulus' on him, but she didn't have her wand, nor had she cast a spell. The terrified mother raced down the stairs and reached a hand out to Jasper, who seemed, not only unaffected by the ordeal, but was smiling as though it was some kind of game. She pulled him to her and cradled him as though he were a lifeline, sinking to the stairs as the staircase finished its journey to the other end of the castle. She only vaguely recognized the fact that Jasper's matching amulet was emitting a soft, red glow as well.

As they came to a rumbling stop, Hermione looked up into the kind, but scared green eyes of Minerva McGonagall who had powerlessly looked on from across the empty floors. With nary a word, Hermione stood and flung herself and her baby into the arms of her friend, who enfolded her in warmth and the scent of highland heather, whispering through a thickened voice. "Shh, a leannan, shh. It's all right, he's fine, see? Dinna fash, lassie, all is well. Something tells me those amulets may come in handy through the lad's teen years, aye?"

Hermione let out a tearful laugh and took a deep breath, instinctively checking her son for damage and intentionally not meeting the eyes looking down on her. "I only took my eyes from him for a moment. I got lost in thought. I can't believe I let him get that far from me. What kind of mother am I?"

Minerva quickly and with a firm arm around mother and child, spirited them away to her rooms for a spot of tea for mum and an afternoon nap for the bairn. "An average one," she said reassuringly as they started down the corridor.

Chapter 8

A week later, Hermione was dropping Jasper off at 'Uncle Harry's' for her Beltane weekend with Minerva, which was causing her no small amount of distress. She still wasn't sure what to expect and Ginny Potter, now six months pregnant, was not helping matters anyway.

"Beltane with McGonagall, huh 'Mione? Kinky."

"Shove it, Ginny. Everything he should need is in his diaper bag and overnight bag. If there's an emergency, a patronus should be able to find me, however, Minerva has asked that we not be disturbed."

"Really…" Ginny hinted, waggling her eyebrows.

"Seriously, Ginny, this is about my memories, remember? Magical Amnesia? Ongoing Investigation?"

"Right, and it has nothing to do with the fact that you go all gooey eyed when you talk about her, or the fact that she'd invited you to the most sexually charged ritual of the wiccan calendar?"

"I do not. And it is not. Minerva says that Beltane is misunderstood by oversexed young wizards and that there are parts of the feast that have nothing to do with fertility or the activities therin," Hermione said huffily.

"You keep telling yourself that, lady. You sound like you read that from a textbook." The brunette blushed prettily. "Oh my god. You DID read that in a textbook! Bloody hell 'Mione, you researched sex rituals!?"

"No. I researched the OTHER Beltane rituals."

"Whatever gets you through your fire feast. Harry! Come grab Jasper's stuff so we can get him settled!"

Harry appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He crossed the living room and lifted Jasper from Hermione's arms and gave his mother a warm buss on her cheek. "Don't worry about a thing. We'll have a great time. And don't listen to Ginny. She's frustrated because her mediwich says she needs to 'take it easy' in the bedroom," he disclosed with a wink.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Too much information, both of you. I'll see you in a couple of days. Don't let him out of your sight. Love you both," she turned to go. "Oh, I almost forgot. She lifted the jasper amulet from around her neck and hung it around Ginny's. This will alert you if he's in any sort of trouble. You probably won't need it, but just in case. Bye Bye Baby. Mummy loves you," she gave her son one final caress.

"Where did you get this?" Ginny asked, curious.

"Minerva," Hermione said perfunctorily and apparated away.

Harry and Ginny exchanged knowing looks and turned their attention to their little visitor.


	5. Part V

A few author's notes: I don't write songfic, but music does inform and inspire my writing. In the case of these chapters (and likely some in future) the story came first, and then the song came along and lent a voice. I can't explain why. It's mostly very abstract, although it did help with one exchange that was giving me fits. So, if you care to peek inside my mind go listen to "Cassiopeia" by Sara Bareilles. If the story doesn't do it for you, the song will. It's brilliant.

I am a wretched researcher, but I do try to keep things at least plausible, so, in case you are curious, my gaelic and scots is coming from a mixture of The Outlander Series by Diana Gabaldon and its companion website, The Outlander Wiki and the Scottish Gaelic Dictionary I found online.

Rituals: I made them up, however, they are based on real things that I read about Beltane on Wikipedia. Same with the Rowan trees. Basic research. Filled in the blanks with my imagination.

Avalon: It all came from The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley. I don't know how true to Arthurian Legend she stays, but I like her take on the legend and its focus on the women's role in Arthurian history.

Here we go. I need your feedback more than ever to know if it all went in the right direction. Thanks for all the reviews so far. It's very encouraging.

Chapter 9

She arrived in Minerva's private chambers just after ten o'clock. She strode across the office and through the open door of the sitting room where she stopped in her tracks.

The view before her was magnificent. Minerva McGonagall as Hermione had never seen her. She was dressed in a medieval dress of deep crimson, cinched at the elbows with gold thread and ending just above the wrists in opaque gossamer bell sleeves. Her hair was drawn from her face in two slim braids which met in the back to meet the rest of her ebony plait and tied with the same gold thread that adorned her dress. She sat on her stone window seat overlooking the grounds, her face painted with moonlight and a pensive look gracing her proud features. She looked ephemeral, ethereal, not of this world.

Hermione leaned her back against the door frame as the realization hit her all at once.

Ginny's words, her thoughts in the library, the witty banter bordering on flirting, the catch in her chest when Minerva held Jasper, it all made sense now. The thoughts and memories of the last few months swirled in her mind making her palms sweat and her vision narrow. What in the hell was she going to do?

She was dead gone on Minerva McGonagall.

Hermione banged her head once against the door frame that was now holding her up.

Her soft sigh pulled Minerva from her musings and she looked up. "Sorry, Hermione. I didn't hear you come in."

The young woman didn't move from her sanctuary against the wall and made no attempt to tear her eyes from the work of art before her.

"You look bloody gorgeous." She couldn't help the words that slipped out and instantly bit her lip to keep further outbursts in.

Minerva smiled, trying to quell her blushing and Hermione found the wherewithal to move further into the room.

"Well," Minerva said. "I, too, am my mother's daughter. This gown was hers. She wore it each Beltane. And now it's mine."

Hermione sat in the empty space across from the elder witch on the window seat. "Tell me about her."

"There isna much to tell. I barely knew her. She raised me on Avalon until I was 11, but even then, I spent much of my time amongst the younger priestesses and my tutors. She was always someone larger than life, someone to be adored. And, oh, I adored her." At this, a youthful glow took over Minerva's countenance and Hermione saw a glimpse of the girl she used to be. "She died many years ago."

"Do you ever go back?"

"To Avalon? Nay, lass, it's impossible. Avalon was lost amongst the fairies centuries ago. To find it now, you must either be a priestess of the isle or have someone on the isle to guide you to it. Mother was my only connection to Avalon, so it is lost to me now too."

"Pity." Hermione bantered. "The garb suits you."

Minerva gave her a sidelong smile. "You diffuse with humor when you're nervous."

"And your brogue gets more pronounced when you're scared, or happy or angry."

"Aye, I suppose it does at that."

"And your father?"

"Da was Laird of Loch Tarbert, which these days doesna mean much, but he loved his castle and his loch and his clan."

"So, if he was a laird, and he's passed…"

Minerva finished her sentence. "I am now laird of Loch Tarbert, or Lady, to be more precise. Aye. I have an executor that takes care of the castle and the land and I visit from time to time," she finished resolutely.

"Beautiful _and_ Mistress of All She Surveys. You truly _are_ quite the catch."

Minerva ignored the compliment, lost in thoughts of her father. "Da was an Astronomy Master. He used to wake me in the middle of the night to spirit me away to the moors to lie amongst the heather and show me the stars." She leaned close to Hermione, looking out to the night sky pointing. "You cannae see her well in Springtime, but if you look close, those five stars that make a W?" Hermione nodded, but her focus was stolen from the sky to the profile of the woman whose sheer proximity was making her heart beat faster. "That's Cassiopeia. That was my mother's name. Da told me the story once, about a queen so enamored with her own beauty that she angered the gods and they placed her all alone, on her throne, in a remote corner of the night sky where nobody could look on her beauty. My mother wasna vain, but she was very beautiful. I vowed that night to never become like the queen in the story and began to nurture my own humility." At this, Minerva quieted and seemed to draw into herself and leaned away from the young beauty next to her. "It seems I was a bit too successful, as here I sit, on my throne, in a corner of this castle, with nobody to share the night sky with. I became everything I tried so hard not to be."

"No." Hermione stated with more force than may have been necessary. "No, Minerva, you are not alone." She turned fully so she was facing the Headmistress. "You have the students, the other teachers, and friends." She reached out and pulled one thin hand into both of hers. "You have me." A thumb stroked over soft knuckles, "and you have Jasper." Minerva squeezed Hermione's hand, and after a moment's thought, brought it to her lips and kissed it chivalrously. Their eyes met, and then looked away but their hands remained clasped.

The women sat in silence for a few minutes before Hermione summoned her Gryffindor courage and waded into unfamiliar waters.

"We have an odd friendship, you know."

"Do we?"

She nodded. "Normal friends don't… touch as much as we do, do they? They certainly don't celebrate Beltane together… alone," and here she played her terrifying trump card. "They don't foster each other's sons when the other doesn't know said child exists," she blurted out looking at her hands.

Two fingers lifted Hermione's chin so cinnamon eyes could meet shining green. "I believe very good friends do all of those things, conventional friendship or no. But you, I think, are making a point, Ms. Granger. Go on then, spit it out."

"Why did you look after Jasper? When I was… unaware of him? You never did tell me."

"It was the only thing that made sense to me at the time. St. Mungo's wanted to keep him in the orphan ward. Harry and Ginerva wanted to take him to Godric's Hollow. Mr. Weasley," she spat the name out, "even asked if he could look after him. I wanted him to be close to you, even if I agreed to keep him from you. At least you would be nearby him."

Hermione was on the verge of tears, but could still read Minerva like a book and she knew there was more. "And?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Damn your perceptiveness, Hermione. He is a part of you, alright? I watched you languish in that hospital bed for the better part of a year. Then you were awake, but I couldna be honest with you and I felt, somehow, apart from you. Having him near me felt like I was keeping you close."

"And now?" Hermione's voice went soft as she shifted closer to the warm presence across from her.

Minerva waited a long moment before answering, giving Hermione just enough time to lay a hand softly atop hers resting on her tucked knee. "And now, it is time for us to make our way down to the clearing." She patted the hand atop hers and rose. "We have much to do tonight, and a long walk ahead," and she disappeared through the door to her bed chamber.

She called from the other room. "Douse the fire, Hermione. We'll bring fire from the ritual to relight the hearth when we get back. A very old tradition."

Hermione shook the cobwebs from her mind, getting up to do as she was bade, but she couldn't ignore the invisible pull she felt towards the woman in the other room.

By the time Minerva returned from her room, Hermione had regained her composure and was leaning her head against the window, hugging her knees, taking her own turn at being bathed in moonlight. Minerva took a moment to bask in the sight, but did not give herself the luxury of too many thoughts, thinking instead of the myriad reasons a romance with Hermione Granger was completely ill-advised.

"Come now, lassie, put this on." She held out a heavy wool cloak of green and blue tartan, underlain with a crimson that matched Minerva's gown. "T'will be cold tonight outside the fire circle."

"I did feel a bit underdressed," Hermione chuckled, indicating her dark blue cotton dress. Ankle length and long-sleeved it may be, but warm, it was not. She moved her focus to the cloak in Minerva's grasp. "The McGonagall tartan?"

Minerva nodded and Hermione smiled at the honor. Scots tended to be choosy over who could wear their colors.

"What about you? Won't you be cold?"

"Dinnae worry yourself about me, lass. I'll stay plenty warm, I expect. Come now." She moved closer to the younger witch, met her eyes and swept the cloak over her shoulders, pulling her chestnut curls from under the collar and resting slim, gentle hands on the sides of her neck. The cloak felt heavy on her shoulders, but comforting, the scent of old wool and heather made her heady and vulnerable. And as she looked into eyes the color of highland moss, she couldn't wait any longer.

One small hand reached around an elegant neck and pulled Minerva's lips to hers. The response was immediate and undeniable and they sunk into each other. Hermione's hand stroked Minerva's jaw as Minerva's slipped up the back of Hermione's neck into riotous curls. It was over almost as soon as it had begun. The elder broke the kiss with a deep breath and an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

"I won't apologize for that." Hermione insisted quietly. "You look so beautiful and I couldn't help myself." She couldn't rip her gaze from Minerva's.

The voice was gentle, but sad. "Come, leannan. The fires are lit, and the ritual waits for no witch. It's time." She took Hermione by the hand and guided her out the doors, through the castle and out onto the vast Hogwarts grounds.

The entire walk to the forest, Hermione found herself wondering if that kiss had actually happened at all.

Chapter 10

It was a long walk, across the grounds, past Hagrid's hut, into the forest deeper than Hermione had ever ventured before, but soon enough they passed into a clearing which gave way to a grassy hill in the middle of what could only be described as a small meadow.

"I didn't know there was anything like this in the forest."

"Mmhmm. The forest is bigger and holds more secrets than even I am aware of, but I am aware of a great many of them."

At the apex of the hill were lit two fires of equal size, throwing smoke and ash and embers into the dark sky. Hermione could feel the heat of them at the foot of the hill and the sight took her breath away.

"Stay calm, dear, I'll talk you through the whole thing, aye?" A firm hand at the small of her back led her up the hill.

By the heat of the southern fire, Hermione removed her cloak and spread it on the ground so both women could sit on it, facing each other, legs crossed, hands joined. Minerva looked to the sky, waiting for the moon to rise to its zenith. At midnight precisely, Minerva began invoking a spell in Gaelic that Hermione only vaguely understood. She recognized the words for protect, woman, memory and evil from the books she had pored over, but not much else. She was becoming lost in the rolling sound of Minerva speaking in her childhood language and could feel the magic in those words making her heavy and sleepy. She felt Minerva's magic pull her from her stupor.

"Hermione, do you wish to regain your memories? You must answer vocally."

She wasn't sure how, but somewhere in the back of her mind, the gaelic words came to her.

"Tha luig cuimhnich" She turned surprised eyes on Minerva for confirmation.

"Well done, lassie. Your syntax needs some work, but you got your point across." Both women smiled.

The fires flared up, and a red burst flew out the top of the nearest one, bathing them in a crimson sprinkle, infused with magic. Hermione felt as though she was vibrating.

"Close your eyes, Hermione, the fire is preparing you for the next step in your journey."

She obeyed and when the magical shower had abated she opened her eyes and Minerva was standing, holding out a hand to help her up. They walked to the end of the corridor between the fires and Minerva stood behind Hermione, hands on her shoulders, whispering her next instructions into the delicate shell of an ear. It was all Hermione could do to focus on what she was to do next and not the pulses of magic coursing through her and the breath against her cheek.

"You need not say any more, only walk between the fires to the rowan tree at the end. Rowan trees are natural protectors. They ward off evil spirits and protect travelers from becoming lost." At this she pulled out a small blade and before giving any warning drew it deftly across Hermione's left palm.

"Ouch." She made to pull her hand away, but Minerva kept it close and with a wave of her hand whispered a spell over the bleeding palm.

"Sorry. A necessary evil. When you've reached the tree, lay your blood against it and simply ask silently for its protection from your personal evil. Words are unnecessary. The rowan will understand. The tree represents the past you cannot remember. I will remain here as your anchor to the present, the pathway between us is the road by which your lost memories will return with you. Are you ready?"

Hermione only nodded

"Off you go, then. I am right here."

Hermione walked, she felt herself leaving the here and now as though she was no longer a part of the physical world. The tree didn't look magical, but as she laid her hand against it she felt as though she were being wrapped in a warm hug. The comfort coming from the tree was almost physical and it brought tears to her eyes. She looked into the branches and new she needn't speak. As she looked into the depths of the branches, she wept openly.

The firelight lit on Hermione's wet cheeks and Minerva waited patiently for her to begin the journey back to her. It was difficult to remain anchored to her side of the fires and not run to the young woman but she was the anchor and if Hermione stood a chance of remembering, the anchor she would remain.

As Hermione turned to start her walk back she saw Minerva, waiting, strong and steady at the end of the fires, waiting for her, and Hermione couldn't help but feel that she was now standing firmly in her past, looking down a corridor at her future. Her memories hadn't returned, but it didn't matter, she could start a new life now, with Jasper and, if given half a chance, with Minerva too. She started the walk back, the magnetic pull to Minerva growing stronger with every step. Halfway down she couldn't resist any longer and she began to run, full boar toward the woman who had gone to such lengths to save her.

At the end of the corridor, she slowed, but did not stop. With all the confidence of a woman who knows her mind, she wrapped a strong hand around the back of Minerva's neck and kissed her like it was her last day on earth. Minerva smelled of heat and smoke and tasted of highland rain and a hint of scotch whiskey and Hermione couldn't get enough.

Minerva returned the kiss. She was powerless to do anything else. This astonishing young woman wanted her and it was beyond her to step away, even as she knew she should. She wrapped one long arm around a slim waist as the other buried itself in a mane of long curls and the world fell away.

The kiss broke, but their noses rubbed together as Minerva found her voice. "Your memories?"

Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I can live without them. If I have you, I can live without them."

Minerva fell into brown eyes. "Hermione, we shouldn't."

"I don't care," she whispered and kissed her again.

Minerva knew she should stop. She was the one with the power here, she needed to stop them, but the lips against hers were so soft and the tongue that had somehow made its way into her mouth felt like heaven and her mind melted into the kiss.

It was then that Hermione screamed. Minerva's arms were empty and Hermione was screaming and holding her head and she fell to her knees on the ground.

"Ahhh! Minerva it hurts, God it hurts so much"

"Hermione, what happened? What can I do," she knelt to help the now prone woman as she writhed on the ground.

"Don't touch me! No! No! Let me go! Give me my wand you little ingrates! Let me go!"

The memories had returned and Hermione was living them in vivid detail. She looked into the fire with unseeing eyes.

"What are we doing here? Stop this instant. Help!" then she gasped, as if she'd seen a ghost.

"Cormac? Cormac what are you – No. No, Cormac, Stop. Please stop! Don't do this. You don't want to do this Cormac, Please! No!" The pleading and mumbling went on as Hermione curled into a ball on the dewy grass.

Her screams dissolved into quiet sobs as Minerva sat on the ground, pulled the girls head into her lap and pulled out a handkerchief to wrap her still bleeding hand. She wandlessly summoned her cloak and, with great care, wrapped the still crying woman in her family tartan. Then she stood and lifted the young woman bodily into her arms. Magically, she lit one of the torches staked in the ground by the fire and levitated it in front of her. She thought perhaps if they completed the ritual by relighting the hearth from the Beltane fire, it may ease some of the young woman's pain.

"Come mo nighean donn. It'll be all right. Let's go home," and with the help of a quiet featherweight charm, carried her all the long way back to the castle.


	6. Part VI

Chapter 11

Minerva sat on Hermione's sofa, sipping from a cup of tea, laced liberally with firewhiskey. The consequences of what she had put the young witch through this evening rolling over and over in her racing mind like a quaffle in a quiddich match. She stared at the fire, lit from the Beltane torch, hoping it would hold the answers to all the questions churning inside.

After everything she had been through, was it really necessary to give her more to deal with, more to heal from, more to put on those delicate but strong shoulders?

There would have been another way; more investigations, harder interrogations, searching for clues, muggle policework. She could have gone her whole life without the burden of those memories and now she lay in her bed, broken and alone, suffering from nightmares Minerva could never imagine.

It was her fault. It was her fault Hermione was attacked, and her fault she didn't know about Jasper and now it was her fault she would have to live with the memory of what happened to her… always.

What's more, she was weak. When Hermione kissed her, Minerva knew she should have stopped,she knew that Hermione had had enough tragedy and was just searching for something to hold onto. It was her responsibility to stop when those feelings surfaced, but she just hadn't been strong enough.

Her truth, now that she was prepared to admit it, was that over the last several months, Minerva McGonagall had fallen, boots over broomstick, in love with Hermione Granger, and when that beautiful young woman had thrown herself into her arms and kissed her with such abandon – twice, Minerva allowed herself to fall a little further; and now it was time to let her go.

"Stop that," the unexpected voice startled her from her musings into the fire and her head snapped abruptly to the bedroom door, where Hermione leaned, clad in her red silk pajamas, drying her chestnut curls with a fluffy towel.

"Hermione," Minerva attempted to collect her thoughts. "Stop what?"

"Blaming yourself. Imagining how it could have been prevented. Beating yourself up. It wasn't your fault, Minerva. None of it."

Minerva cleared her throat, attempting to choke back the lump that had settled there. "How do you feel?"

Hermione shrugged as she walked into the room, slinging the towel over one shoulder and sat at the other end of the sofa, looking for her own answers in the crackling fire. "How am I supposed to feel?"

"There's no good answer to that."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Hermione spoke.

"Cormac McLaggen."

"What?"

"He's the bloke who raped me. Cormac McLaggen." It was the first time she'd ever spoken the word aloud, and it had rolled off her tongue as though she had been discussing Ministry business with Kingsley Shacklebolt. "I met him my sixth year. He was one of Slughorn's little pets. He took me to one of those ridiculous Slug Club parties and turned out to be a total creep. I…may have… hexed him when I heard him talking about my friends. Guess he never got over it." She paused for a long moment. "Countryman of yours?" she tried to hide the tears in her eyes, but Minerva saw them just before one slipped down her cheek.

"Don't do that Hermione. Don't try to hide your pain with humor. A Scot he may be, but he is no clansman of mine," Minerva said vehemently and drew the now shaking witch against her. "We'll get him lassie. If I have to hunt him through the moors myself. We'll get him. Geallaidh mi sin dhut."

Hermione's trembles subsided and she took a deep, cleansing breath, extricating herself from the circle of Minerva's arms. As she sat up her eyes lifted to their green counterparts.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

Hermione smiled at Minerva's humility. "For what? For everything! For conducting the ritual, for restoring my memories, for bringing me back here, for comforting me, for caring for Jasper." She lifted one small hand to cup Minerva's jawline as a soft thumb traced her bottom lip. "For being phenomenal, and brave and," her voice was soft and throaty, "truly beautiful." Pink lips captured rosy red for a scant moment before Minerva pulled away.

"Hermione, don't." She stood and began pacing behind the sofa.

Hermione sighed, as though she knew this was coming. "Why?"

"Don't be obtuse, you know why."

"I'd like to hear you say it."

Minerva was starting to become angry. "You really want me to list all the reasons? Fine. We'll start with the most obvious, not the least of which is, I am your boss. Followed by the fact that you are a former student, you are nearly a half century my junior, you have an infant son and we are both responsible for hundreds of young lives and cannot be gallivanting around this castle like pubescent teenagers."

Hermione stood and crossed to lean on the back of the sofa to look sideways at the elder witch. "Well, Headmistress, those are all very practical, level-headed reasons. Well done you. None of them, however have anything to do with how _you feel_. Now you might tell me the real reason. I don't regret kissing you tonight, nor, I think, do you. I know you are confused, but don't push me away and for Merlin's sake, Minerva, don't lie to me."

Minerva looked at the ceiling attempting to reign in her exasperation. Minerva McGonagall was an accomplished spy and had once been a decorated agent in the Ministry's intelligence division. Subterfuge was like an old comfy sweater to her, and this young woman could spot her lying across the bloody Black Lake. "Hermione," she looked back at the witch who, in her snit had managed to work up an indignant flush that nearly took Minerva's breath away. "You have, this very night, regained memories of an experience which would fell the strongest of women and witches. You have a long road of healing ahead and I couldn't in good conscience – "

"So that's it then," Hermione cut in. "I'm damaged goods, am I?"

Now Minerva's Scottish temper flared to full flame. "Now just a minute. That is not what I meant and you bloody well know it. Don't put words in my mouth, Hermione."

"Then don't tell me what I want, or need. I'm not a child, nor am I some blushing virgin throwing herself at her Professor. Can you honestly tell me that you feel nothing when I kiss you?"

"That isn't the point."

"It's the only point! It's the only thing that matters. I have been hurt. Yes. I have experienced tragedy. Yes. My life is forever changed. Yes. Yes. Yes. But that doesn't change the fact that when I look at you, I am somehow able to breathe again." Her breath caught at this. "Is it so hard to believe that you may actually be able to help me get through this?"

"Of course I'll be here, every step of the way, just not as – "

"Not as a lover. Not as a companion. As my boss, a friend, a mentor." Hermione scowled.

"Yes."

"No."

"No?"

They were facing each other now, mere feet separating them.

"I'll want more."

"You won't"

"How do you know?"

"Because someday, when you are healed and whole once again, you will look up and realize that I am a lonely old woman."

Minerva leaned on the back of the sofa, looking back into the fire, wishing she could just allow herself to love this woman.

"Coward."

"What?"

"You heard me_, Professor_. You are a coward. Some Gryffindor you are. You're so afraid of what you think you are, that you won't allow yourself to be what you truly can be."

Minerva let her head hang, hating her next words almost as much as she loathed herself at this moment. Her control was hanging by a thread, her Scottish tempter warring with her English dignity. She did not want to lash out at Hermione again, but she was afraid of the tenuous hold she had on her anger.

"I'm sorry, dear. I cannot offer you more than friendship."

Hermione shook her head. "And if I won't settle for less?"

The temper won out and Minerva turned on Hermione, mind and body. "That's how it'll be then, aye? Either I shag you or you deny me even your friendship?"

For the second time in her life, Hermione Granger struck Minerva McGonagall full across the face. *SMACK*

Hermione couldn't breathe. All the air had been sucked from the room at Minerva's hurtful words. She stumbled backwards and her back hit the wall of her sitting room as she slid to the floor. "Get out."

The red haze on Minerva's consciousness lifted when she realized exactly what she had said and the impact it had had. "Hermione, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't mean – "

"Get. Out."

"Please, let me explain. It's my temper, I – "

Hermione leapt from her spot on the floor, blew past Minerva to the fireplace and threw a handful of floo powder into the flames. "I am going to get my son, have a drink with people who love me, in my bloody pajamas, and return here in one hour to get a terrible night's sleep. By the time I get back, you will be gone_. Aye?_"

Tears were streaming down Minerva's face now. Everything was upside down.

"The Potters!" She was gone.

Chapter 12

The Headmistress was gone when Hermione returned, and didn't set foot across the threshold of those rooms the remainder of the term year.

The month passed quickly. Hermione threw herself into her students and into Jasper. The elves cared for him when she was working, but she avoided Minerva whenever possible. The tension during mealtimes was palpable and Hermione simply counted the days until final exams.

Aurors were searching for Cormac McLaggen, to little success. He was hiding out in the Highland moors. All involved were getting increasingly frustrated.

The day after term ended, Hermione sent a single memo to the Headmistress's office and took Jasper on a walk to the Hogwarts Express. She was right when she thought the little boy would squeal in delight over the shiny, red train. The older students cooed over the baby and the younger one's waved hearty good-byes to her as the train pulled away from the station. She tried to hide the tears in her eyes.

Could she really leave them? Leave all this? She would miss it so.

She made her way quickly back up to the castle to pack the remainder of her things. The time away would do her good. She could clear her head and get out of the oppressive atmosphere that Hogwarts had become.

Meanwhile, in the Headmistress's office, Minerva watched from her window as mother and son strode, giggling across the grounds, stopping only for a moment to watch the giant squid breach the surface of the lake, almost as though waving good bye.

She turned back to her desk, intending to finish up a bit of work before disappearing to her own castle in the Highlands for a long vacation and to purge her heart of Hermione Granger.

That thought came at the same time her eyes landed on the envelope sitting on her desk, written in Hermione's strident hand. She opened it eagerly, but with dread.

_Headmistress,_

_Thank you for another successful year. I hope you found the student's final History exams to your satisfaction. _

_I feel it only fair to warn you that I am considering a change in career and may not be returning to Hogwarts next year. I have had a number of offers from both the Ministry and private research companies. The offers are lucrative and are to be taken seriously._

_I will certainly inform you of my final decision by July 1 so as to give you ample time to find my replacement should the need arise._

_If you need to reach me for any reason, you will be able to find me at the Potter residence in Godric's Hollow._

_Please feel free to come visit Jasper whenever you'd like. I don't wish to keep you from him, despite the dissolution of our personal relationship. He misses you._

_Thank you for your mentorship and the opportunity to advance my career at Hogwarts. It has been exceedingly fulfilling._

_Yours,_

_Hermione Jean Granger_

Despite the frosty tone of the letter, Minerva read between the lines. She left an opening to contact her, which meant she hadn't given up entirely. Jasper missed her? Only Jasper? Was she really considering not returning next year? Was Minerva really going to let her get away? To what, spend another month miserable and alone, waiting for another opportunity to apologize and win a second chance?

"Over my dead body," and the Headmistress strode to the floo and threw in a handful of powder. There was no time to waste and no time to ask for permission to enter. "Professor Granger's Private Rooms!"

Jasper sat on the bed, bouncing happily as Hermione methodically, but quickly shrunk her belongings and packed them into a magically extended suitcase. She needed to finish and leave before Minerva read her letter. She was sure she was busy with end of term business so she had a little time.

It was at that moment, that Headmistress Minerva McGonagall strode from her outer chamber into her bedroom in a tornado of silk robes. She didn't stop upon crossing the threshold, but walked across the bedroom, and around the four poster bed with a definitive gait. Still without stopping, she marched straight up to Hermione Granger and kissed her, full on the mouth, lifting her bodily from her feet with one strong arm around her slim waist and one buried in luscious curls.

Hermione broke away, stunned. "Minerva, what are you – hmmph" she was silenced by another heart stopping kiss, the taller witch obviously not willing to hear whatever protests arose.

With that second kiss, all the anger drained from Hermione and she gave into the kiss, sliding an arm under outer robes to grasp at the small of her back, her free hand stroking a soft, creamy cheek. She pushed back until Minerva's back hit the oak post at the end of the bed.

The kisses lasted long languid minutes, following one after the other while both witches explored with tongues and hands. When they finally pulled away, Hermione's hand had wandered to Minerva's sternum, in the welcoming valley between her breasts, where she could feel a strong, but fast heartbeat against her fingertips. Their noses continued to bump delightfully against each other as Hermione spoke.

"What brought that on?"

Flushed from arousal and giddy with pride at the disheveled look in cinnamon eyes, Minerva's brogue was in full bloom.

"Dinnae leave me, leannan. Toilich. Give me anger, give me love, give me passion, give me disgust, but please dinnae give me indifference. Anything but more silence. Please. It isna in me to let you go. I'm so very sorry, Hermione. 'S duilich leam gun. My infernal Scottish temper. I cannae always control it and I never should have said what I did. I dinnae mean it, truly, love. Whatever you want, you have it. My heart, my soul, my love, it's yours. 'S mise le mùirn. I cannae – "

Soft fingertips landed on her swollen lips, quieting her endless words.

"Shhhh. You're rambling, and I can't understand half of it." The smile gracing her face could have lit all of Hogsmeade Village. "It's alright, darling. I forgive you," and she drew her into another kiss. This one was soft, exploring, it may have lacked the desperation of the first, but none of the heat.

A giggle from Jasper drew them apart. He crawled to the end of the bed and held his arms up to Minerva and screamed. "Min!"

Both women gasped and Minerva swept Jasper into her arms and tossed him into the air, much to the boys noisy delight. She set him firmly on her hip and adjusted his little Chudley Cannon's shirt so it covered his belly, emerald eyes never straying from deep brown. "You'll stay, aye? "

"Aye," and a strong hand on the back of Minerva's neck drew lips, tongues and hearts together.


	7. Part VII

A/N: Chapter 14 earns its M rating. I have never attempted to write anything this graphic before, so I'm anxious for feedback on it. *bites nails*

If you're not into reading heavy love scenes, you may give this one a skip, or a skim. Kids should get off the ride here. There's very little in terms of forward momentum of the story here, but there's a lot of love, so I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 13

Their bliss was short-lived. One moment Hermione was drowning in the scent, touch and kiss of Minerva McGonagall, the next her 11-month-old son was throwing up on said woman's elegant silk robes.

"Oh Merlin Minerva, I'm so sorry!" She was trying, unsuccessfully to suppress her laughter at the sight of the tall, dignified Headmistress of Hogwarts covered in strained peas and looking at Jasper as though he was a grindylow. "He doesn't take well to being jostled. He loves it, but he gets a bit seasick. He throws up every time I apparate him anywhere." She gathered Jasper to her and summoned a towel from the loo to attempt to rescue Minerva's clothing.

"Leave off, darling, it's not the first time I've dealt with a vomiting bairn, take care of him, don't worry about me."

Jasper was surprisingly quiet and calm, but as Hermione checked her son for evidence of more illness, she watched her son's visage change from calm, to distressed to panicked. Within a minute he released an almighty squall that would have awoken the whole of Gryffindor Tower had it still been occupied. He turned purple and his scrunched face heated to a low boil.

"Shhh, Jas, Shhh. Mummy's got you. Shhh, baby." She rocked him back and forth and laid her wand gently against his forehead and with a quiet "Thermos" was informed of her son's spiking fever. "He's burning up, Minerva, I need to get him a fever potion and some baby aspirin."

"Go, leannan," she said, divesting herself of her soiled outer robe. "I'll alert Poppy and just change quickly. Back in a flash." She dropped an affectionate, lingering kiss on Hermione's forehead and stroked Jasper's sweaty curls briefly and she was gone.

"Come on dear boy. Let's get you fixed up."

Within a few moments she had Jasper stripped to his diaper and was administering both magical and muggle fever remedies. As she rocked him gently in the chair furthest from the fire, she noticed the softly glowing stone around his neck. She checked hers and sure enough it was also emitting a soft glow and a subtle warmth. She cuddled the baby closer and sang a quiet lullaby into his tiny ear. She swore she felt his heated skin grow mildly cooler as she helped him off to sleep.

Chapter 14

Minerva entered Hermione's chambers through the door this time, feeling less urgency and not wanting to disturb too much. She had changed into comfortable linen pants and a long cotton tunic that had seen better days, just in case Jasper threw up again. She had consulted Poppy and was informed that if the fever didn't subside within 24 hours that they were to bring him straight to the hospital wing.

"Don't pass your stubborn refusal to seek treatment when you're ill on to that boy, Minerva," the venerable healer had said to her. "Keep him healthy."

As she passed through Hermione's entry into the sitting room she thought her heart might burst. There sat mother and son, in a rocking chair by the dying fire, drawing comfort and warmth from each other, both sleeping soundly.

She smiled and laid a thin hand over her heart, willing it to calm. She chose to let the pair sleep a bit longer and moved into the kitchenette to busy herself.

Some time later, she re-entered the sitting room, laden with a tea tray, some light snacks and a bottle filled with a mild hydration potion.

Trying desperately not to wake the beauty before her, she ever so gently lifted Jasper from his mother's arms. He was considerably cooler, though still a bit clammy. He fussed for a moment until Minerva pressed the bottle to his rosy lips and he sucked tiredly, reaching a tiny hand to her chin in greeting.

Her eyes never left him as she watched his eyelids become heavy and he once-again dropped off to sleep. It was then that she carried him to the nursery and laid him in his crib, removing the bottle from his grip and covering him in the McGonagall tartan she had given him for his half-birthday. She watched him sleep, stroking his curls until she felt two strong arms wind around her midsection, surprising her just enough that she gasped quietly.

"Thank you," came the gentle, sleep-soaked voice behind her.

She turned around and her arms were filled with Hermione. Her scent and presence surrounded her and she knew nothing else but this woman. Hermione's head lay solidly against her chest and Minerva's fingers became lost in the mane of brown curls. When her emotions came close to overwhelming her, she spoke. "I love you, Hermione; both of you. Please know that I love you, so very much."

Hermione's answer was a kiss steeped in love and full of promise. She opened her lips in invitation and Minerva tasted the inside of Hermione's mouth. Her head was swimming as she broke away, finding cinnamon eyes with her own. "I made tea, are you hungry?"

Hermione couldn't find her voice, but shook her head and answered the same as before, by leaning up and delivering another gentle, probing kiss.

Minerva couldn't suppress the moan that bubbled from her throat as the kiss deepened and the vibration against Hermione's lips drove them both higher. Hermione broke away, breathless, found Minerva's hand with her own and gave a gentle tug as she backed herself through the door leading to her own bedroom.

As her knees bumped against her bed she stopped and looked back into Minerva's mossy green depths. "I love you too."

Minerva's brain was short-circuiting. She said the first thing that came to her. "What? No witty nervous deflection?"

Hermione stood on her tiptoes so her mouth brushed lightly against the shell of a blushing ear. "I'm not nervous," she whispered breathlessly.

Minerva's eyes slipped closed and her fists tightened in the folds of Hermione's outer robe. "Aye, weel. I am, so go easy on me, eh lass?"

The younger witch buried her hands in Minerva's loose ebony waves and drew her closer so her breath warmed Minerva's lips, but they didn't touch. "I need to you take whatever is going through that astonishing mind of yours and let it go. Just feel, darling," and she kissed away any protest remaining on Minerva's lips.

Neither could remember how it happened, but before they knew it they were lying on the bed, hands wandering beneath layers of clothes, looking for purchase on smooth, heated skin.

Minerva managed to come to herself long enough to reach for her wand in the pocket of the linen pants that were proving a poor barrier to Hermione's perfect, curious hands.

"What's that for?" the brunette asked cheekily.

"You are wearing far too much," she answered, frustrated with Hermione's many-layered teaching robes. "I am banishing all of this infernal clothing."

A delicate hand wrapped around her wrist, hindering any movement. "Uh, uh," Hermione scolded. "I told you once, Professor, there are some things that are much more satisfying without magic." She removed the wand from a shaking hand and threw it on the floor. In the next moment the young witch had her lover divested of tunic and bra and was looming over her through a curtain of brown curls. "You'll just have to figure it out on your own," she said with a sexy smile dipping her head to kiss her.

Minerva's eyes rolled back and her back arched and Hermione feasted on first her neck, then her earlobe, then her left breast until she was writhing and crying out.

Without a word, Minerva found her strength, urged Hermione's head up to look at her and drew their lips back together as now confident hands released the clasps on first outer, then inner robes, leaving Hermione bare from neck to navel, but still covered from shoulders to hips. With a gentle shove, Hermione was sitting up, straddling her linen clad hips. She found one more hook, holding the robes together at the bottom and with its release, she pushed both layers from Hermione's creamy shoulders and off, leaning up to kiss away that wicked smile.

She pulled away abruptly and watched as Hermione herself unclasped her bra and perfect, petite breasts fell into her hands. She forced her eyes to Hermione's. "You are so beautiful," and she brought their lips together, followed by their bodies.

She gently rolled on top of her brown-haired lover and wasted no time covering those perfect breasts with kisses, licks and gentle, toothy bites.

"Minerva," Hermione breathed. "Please," she begged.

"Shh. I'm busy," she murmered into a wet nipple.

"Ah!" Hermione cried. "Please!"

Without leaving her utopian landscape, Minerva's free hand wandered into Hermione's panties from behind, stroking a smooth, tight backside and pushing the offending cloth down and off. The same hand explored the endless length of Hermione's calves and thighs, causing bucking and squirming as she found the sensitive flesh of supple inner thighs.

Minerva left Hermione's breasts and their eyes met again. Their lips came together at the same time Minerva's questing fingers brushed first soft curls then soaking folds, exploring, then probing.

Hermione whimpered into Minerva's mouth, planted her feet on the bed and thrust her hips to Minerva's hand.

Minerva pressed two fingers into Hermione's depths, then three at Hermione's encouraging. "Yes." That breathy voice caused a wave of arousal to streak through Minerva, soaking her own panties.

"You feel… magnificent." She pressed and thrust and watched Hermione come undone beneath her and felt her sex clench at Hermione's final keening cry, announcing her orgasm as smooth walls squeezed her fingers.

Hermione's arms came around her neck and squeezed for all she was worth as she rode wave after wave, her screams getting lost in Minerva's sweaty neck. "_You_ are magnificent," Hermione exclaimed as she attempted to catch her breath. They couldn't tear their eyes away from each other. "Darling." Hermione's fingers explored Minerva's eyebrows, nose, cheeks and lips, while Minerva leaned into the feathery touches, trying to get a handle on her roiling emotions.

Minerva rolled to her back drawing Hermione against her, but the younger witch didn't stay for long as she found Minerva's breasts again, feasting on the exposed flesh. Minerva almost didn't register as the hot mouth moved across ribs and belly. Her light trousers and panties were drawn off slowly with nails ghosting down her legs as she was laid bare. Teeth scraped over hips and thighs and that sharp tongue, capable of such wit and confidence wasted no time as it sunk into her depths.

From there Minerva knew only pleasure. One hand stroked Hermione's head, gently drawing her closer, the other landed above her head and sought purchase on the smooth wall behind the bed. She clawed and pressed and bucked as Hermione pushed her higher and higher until she thought she might break into pieces. "Don't stop," she pleaded. "So close. Ro math, leannan. Mo chridhe."

Hermione smiled wryly at the litany of Gaelic coming from her lover, which soon gave way to heavy pants and wanton cries that were absolute music to her ears, which were currently being held captive by strong, long thighs. She made her ministrations faster and deeper, driving Minerva over the edge with Gaelic shouts of "Seadh! Seadh! Dòcha!" and she was shaking and coming and grasping at Hermione.

As she came down, Hermione placed a gentle kiss on the inside of each warm thigh and crawled up to kiss Minerva with everything she was worth, falling next to her and drawing the still trembling woman into her arms, head in the nook between shoulder and breast.

Hermione giggled into the ebony head. "You speak Gaelic when you come. I don't understand the words, but the sentiment is fairly clear."

Embarrassed, Minerva buried her head in Hermione's chest with an elegant snort before lifting her head to inquire, "Where on earth did you learn how to do that?"

Hermione leaned forward, mischievous smile firmly back in place and whispered, "Beltane."

Minerva's full laugh rang out clear and strong through the chamber and was soon mixed with Jasper's pained wail from the next room.

"Great timing," Hermione observed as she reluctantly extricated herself from the bed and pulled a dressing gown from behind the bedroom door. "I'm going to get him. Think that tea and toast is still warm? I'm starving."

"If you will allow me my wand, Ms. Granger, I'm sure I can make it good as new again."

Hermione kneeled next to the bed and found the discarded ebony wand and tossed it on the bed. "Yes, Headmistress," and she flounced from the room, throwing a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

Minerva shook her head and sent a silent prayer to the goddess Brigid to protect her from this love of hers as she summoned the abandoned tea tray from the sitting room, freshening up the cucumber sandwiches and ladyfingers and reheating the tea.

She was just finishing her task when her lover re-entered the room trying to quiet a fussy Jasper, looking flushed and disheveled and utterly gorgeous.

"You devastate me, leannan. I cannae believe you are mine."

Hermione grinned and turned her focus back to trying to get Jasper to take some more of the hydration potion from the bottle. "Believe it, love. Now that I've got you, I won't let you go again."

"I'll never know why."

Hermione shrugged as she sat back on the bed, trying not to jostle the baby too much. "You kind of snuck up on me, darling. You have showed me, us, such care and compassion and selfless love, through absolutely everything, and that night of the ritual, I simply looked at you and realized I'd loved you all along, I just never knew it. You stayed by my side when I was unconscious, through a pregnancy I slept through, through loss of memories and anger and a newborn. Hell, Minerva, you mothered my son when I wasn't able to do so. That's _everything_ to me. _Everything_." She punctuated her words with a stroke to Minerva's jaw with her free hand.

"This will be complicated, Hermione. Those reasons I gave you that night, all of them, are perfectly valid, and we will have to address them."

Hermione nodded. "I just know that none of those reasons are bigger than what we have."

"And your memories? The attack? How are you handling that?" Minerva tried to sound nonchalant.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm OK, I guess. I've had Ginny, and my mother. Mum is having me see a muggle therapist, and I think it's helping. There really isn't an equivalent in the wizarding world and it's just nice to have someone unbiased to talk to. I still have nightmares and I still see his face in every stranger I see, but I think I'm dealing, or at least starting to."

Minerva drew her close and helped her adjust Jasper so he was snuggled firmly between them as they leaned into each other. "Stay with me this summer, at Tarbert Castle, you and Jasper. I'll show the lad the loch and show you the joys of making love in the heather."

Hermione giggled. "That sounds fantastic. Of course we'll come. We're spending a week with Mum and Dad, but I'll come to you after that. They'll be impressed. It's not every day I take a highland clan chieftan to my bed."

Minerva was cooing at Jasper, who was awake, but quiet. "Mummy thinks she's clever, aye?"

Hermione lifted her lover's chin with two determined fingers. "Kiss me, Lady Tarbert."


	8. Part VIII

A/N: This one's short. Thanks so much for the great reviews. They're really motivational.

Chapter 15

The next morning, Jasper was his happy, mobile self, and exploring Hermione's room on toddly legs while two proud witches looked on; trying, unsuccessfully to keep their hands off each other.

"We'll leave for Surrey tomorrow and come to Tarbert on Friday week, all right?"

Minerva's mind swam up from the sea of pleasure she was drowning in. "What? Oh, aye lass, that'll do. Perhaps I'll actually be able to get some work done while you're away."

"Darling, I was 'away' for nearly a month. Are you saying you spent that time lounging on the sofa, eating bonbons?"

Hermione was nestled between Minerva's legs, her strong back pressing confidently against her lover's soft breasts while Minerva ran her hands over every inch of creamy skin she could reach under the dressing gown. She swept silky curls from a delicate neck and placed a sweet kiss in the space between neck and shoulder. "Leannan, I spent that entire month prowling my office and drinking whiskey, trying to figure out how to get you to speak to me. The things I said were so unforgiveable. You never left my mind."

Hermione couldn't hold back a smile. "I may have overreacted." She stopped Minerva's response with a finger to rosy lips. "I may not have. It doesn't matter now. You have more than made up for it." She replaced her finger with her lips and became lost in Minerva once again.

Breathlessly they parted and Hermione turned around to kneel as one hand wandered beneath Minerva's loose tunic. "Hermione, stop. Jasper – "

"I know, love. I just can't get enough of you." Her lips explored Minerva's leaping pulse point.

"Off, heathen, before your son ends up accidentally flooing to Borneo." She placed one final perfunctory kiss on Hermione's adorable pout and removed herself to find the boy in question while Hermione flopped across the bed, groaning out her frustration.

The morrow brought a difficult departure and a productive morning for the Headmistress. She threw herself into her work as soon as Hermione left. She flooed Duncan, her estate manager at Talbert to have him open the North Wing of the castle and make sure the house elf staff were all back in residence in time for her guests' arrival.

Hermione, for her part, apparated into her parents' living room, prepared with a spit rag for Jasper's inevitable nausea, laden with baby and suitcase and sporting a tired smile.

"Mum! I missed you. Hi Daddy."

"Hello dear, rough trip?"

"Scotland is a ways to apparate, Mum, and your living room is a very specific destination. It takes a bit out of me. She handed her wiggling son to his grandmother and gave Richard an affectionate hug. "Nothing a spot of tea won't fix."

Jean Granger helped her daughter and grandson get settled in her old bedroom while Richard put together tea and toast for the lot. An hour later, Jasper was fighting sleep in his muggle high chair, his mouth half full of mushy banana, so Richard carried him to his crib, leaving mother and daughter to their own devices.

"So," Jean reached out and trapped Hermione's hand before she could begin clearing up, "are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to guess?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mum."

"Bollocks, Hermione, I'm your mother. Out with it."

Hermione sighed, knowing she came by her bullshit detector honestly. "You aren't going to like it, Mum. You're probably better off not knowing."

"Ah, Minerva then." Jean sat back and cast a wary eye on her daughter over her teacup.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "How on earth? Mother. I –"

"Oh, hush, child. Did you honestly think I didn't know? Something happened though, recently, yes?"

Astonished, Hermione knew she had no choice but to share with her mother. She closed her eyes and wished with all her might the dining room floor would open up and swallow her.

"We… had an argument, about a month ago, after the Beltane ritual. I was stupid and divulged my… feelings. She didn't take it well, insisted we weren't well-suited. We both said some things. I walked out on her."

"Minerva is a very smart woman, Hermione, are you sure she isn't right."

"Minerva's always right, but that doesn't mean she always does the right thing. I know we don't make any sense together in any traditional sense, Mum, but she has given me more and been more to me than any lover I've ever had."

"Well, in all fairness, dear, you haven't had many."

Hermione's eyebrows raised and her mother understood the silent _'Are you sure about that?'_

Jean shrugged and waited for Hermione to continue.

"On the last day of school I sent her a letter, indicating that I may not be returning to Hogwarts next year, which was perfectly true. She, ah, didn't take well to the news and charged my room and, well, snogged the fight out of me, for lack of a better phrase."

Jean choked on her tea and delicately wiped her mouth with the tea towel. "I see."

"Jasper and I are spending the summer with her after we leave here."

Jean nodded. She knew she'd never change Hermione's mind. She raised her daughter to know her own mind, but she was still the mother here and would make her mind known as well.

"Just be careful, dear. You are still in a very vulnerable place after regaining your memories. I want you to continue with your therapy and deal with the present. If she makes you feel happy, that's wonderful, but don't mistake that feeling for healing, all right."

Hermione nodded, unsure how to respond.

"And don't make me send your father after her with his shotgun."

Hermione giggled. "Mum, Daddy's shotgun wouldn't stand a chance against Minerva McGonagall's wand. I promise you. She'd send him home in an animal cage."

"Well, it's the message that's important, not the outcome anyway."

"I love you, Mum. Nothing will ever change that."

"Oh, darling. I just want you to be happy. You've been through so very much." She reached out a hand to hold her daughter's chin. "You are the smartest witch of your age, so they tell me. You can take care of yourself. But, allow your father and me to take care of you sometimes too."

"Yes mother." Hermione smiled.

Chapter 16

Her last day in Surrey, Hermione was packing while Richard and Jean took Jasper out for a 'muggle day on the town.'

"He's got to learn to be a muggle too, dear, if he's going to spend any time with us." Jean had said as they had set off for the zoo.

A faint tapping on her bedroom window revealed a juvenile snowy owl with a missive tied to its leg.

"Hullo, Liza! And how are Harry and Ginny?" she fed the owl a treat from the window sill and untied the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Hope all is well in Surrey. Sorry to hear you won't be joining us for the summer. Hopefully, we'll get to see you before school starts up again. Ginny is dying for the story. She's convinced it's to do with McGonagall. I'm sure you'll tell us when you're ready._

_I wanted to give you an update on our search for McLaggen. This is all supposed to be classified, but I have received clearance from my boss to divulge this much. He's holed up in his father's estate in the highlands, which we've finally managed to locate, but it is protected by blood wards and cannot be breached. Sorry, love, can't tell you where it is. We're close, Hermione. The Unspeakables are working on breaking through the blood wards and are confident we'll have him very soon._

_I'm sorry you've had to go through this 'Mione. Just know that Ginny and I both love you very much. Let us know if there's anything we can do for you._

_Ron sends his regards as well. Have a drink with him sometime, all right? No ulterior motives, I promise, just to attempt to be friends. He'd like that._

_We'll miss you this summer. Baby Potter is getting excited to meet the world and his Auntie Hermione. Ginny is huge (don't tell her I said that mate.)_

_All my love,_

_Harry_

Hermione packed the letter next to the bookmark in her _Wizards of the Highlands_ book and finished packing.

That night, after getting Jasper put to sleep and kissing her parents goodnight as they retreated to their room, she sat in front of the fire with her book and a glass of wine. Harry's letter fluttered to her lap and she reread it. Then she read it again, and again. Something was niggling in the back of her mind, telling her something, she just couldn't place it. She shook it off, gave it up for lost and turned in.

Deep in the night she awoke, gasping. For the first time in a month, though, she wasn't awoken by a nightmare, but a revelation.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she realized what it was she needed to do. Quickly and quietly, she palmed her wand and made her way to her son's crib.

A series of spells numbed Jasper's hand, made a tiny cut in his palm and conjured a small vial. She collected several drops of Jasper's blood, banished the sealed vial to her suitcase and with a whispered "Episkey" watched the small wound on her son's hand close efficiently.

"I'm so sorry, baby boy. Mummy loves you so much. It's all going to be OK, I promise." She stroked his soft curls and tried to ignore her tears dropping onto his tartan blanket.

She hardly noticed the soft glow coming from the two jasper amulets in the otherwise dark room.


	9. Part IX

A/N: A bit of a longer update and lots of stuff goes down here. I hope you enjoy. As always, your feedback has been truly amazing and I hope you let me know how you like what you're reading. Thanks all for your support.

Chapter 17

Minerva had rolled out the tartan carpet for the new arrivals. Hermione and Jasper showed up at the gates to Tarbert Castle jostled, tired, nauseous and bedraggled and within minutes they had been fed, changed, kissed and deposited in a ridiculously comfy sofa in front of a healthy fire.

Hermione fought to keep her eyes open while Minerva sat on the floor with Jasper, using her wand to make his new toy Hogwarts Express toot and chug across the hearthstones.

Minerva glanced at her sleepy lover and brushed a hand over her knee. "Go to sleep, Leannan. I've got him."

She nodded through a chestnut tendril and snuggled deeper into the cushions and was asleep in moments.

When the baby started to fuss and it was clear he was ready for his own nap, Minerva carried him to the next room, where his own crib and other nursery necessities had been brought from Hogwarts. She sat in the rocking chair and tucked Jasper close to her, so she could feel his soft breath against her neck. "You're getting big, laddie. We need to have a talk, you and I. I know when you were younger I told you I would only be taking care of you for a bit, until your own Mum was ready to. But, I want you to know that I will always be here to help you, lad. Always. You and Mummy are verra special to me and I wilna ever leave you. Is that alright with you, prìseil?"

Jasper lifted his head and wrapped a lock of black hair in his fist. "Min," he said sleepily and yawned mightily before laying his head back down on her shoulder and putting a tiny thumb in his mouth. He was asleep in minutes, lulled so by Minerva's gentle voice singing a well-loved Gaelic lullaby she remembered from her time on Avalon.

The elder witch deposited her charge in his crib, and made her way back to the sitting room. Careful not to wake Hermione, she crawled onto the huge sofa behind her and spooned her from behind. Hermione gave her a sleepy squeeze on the wrist and snuggled her backside into Minerva's hips before dropping back off to dreamland. Minerva placed a kiss on the nape of her neck and soon fell asleep herself.

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Hermione was standing in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil when Minerva walked in carrying Jasper, who was rubbing his eyes and mumbling "Juice."

Without saying a word, Hermione transfigured a tea mug into a sippy cup and summoned a small decanter of pumpkin juice from the icebox, pouring it into the cup in one fluid motion. She floated the cup to Jasper's grasping hands, but didn't let him have it. "Can you say 'please' Jas?"

"Pees."

"Good boy." He smiled through the sippy cup and drank heartily.

Without missing a beat, Hermione poured the boiling kettle into the teapot to steep, setting two mugs on the table and setting Jasper on her lap.

Minerva watched the well-oiled machine work for a few minutes before sitting down across from Hermione. "You're a natural, lass."

"Ha! I wish. Just a well-practiced multi-tasker, darling. There are days I've considered hitting you up for that time-turner you gave me in third-year."

Minerva poured the tea and forced a smile, a little thrown by the sudden reminder of their vast age difference and the memory of an adolescent Hermione, so different from the mature woman before her.

"I have an idea for this afternoon, if you're game."

Hermione shrugged. "You mentioned the loch and some very blush worthy activities in the heather. Beyond that, I have no idea what you have in store, Lady Tarbert."

"Finish your tea and I'll show you, lass. The bairn can come too."

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Less than 15 minutes later found Hermione standing in front of a horse paddock, face to face with a very large gray mare.

"No bloody way."

Minerva stepped up behind her, Jasper's hand wrapped around her finger, toddling unsteadily next to her. "Dinnae fash, lass. I'll be right behind ye. Like this," she stepped closer, so Hermione could feel her body heat and her free hand wrapped around her, hand on her belly. Hermione's heart sped up and her breath became shallow.

Hermione regained her wits and rounded on her lover.

"Minerva McGonagall, you have seen me on a broom. Rolanda Hooch laughed her face off and you nearly fell off your own broom trying not to, and now you want me to ride something that actually has a brain? You're mental."

"Come, now, leannan, it wasna that bad," she hid her errant smile. "Besides, Jasper wants to, aye laddie?"

"Hosey! Mama Hosey!" He bounced on his shaky legs until he lost his balance and plopped softly on his bum.

"Oh, I see. Using my son against me. This is bloody emotional blackmail woman, and you will pay for it."

"Aye, I suppose I will. I look forward to it." With that, she opened the paddock gate and approached her horse. "Halo grin each. Mo Leah. Socair gràdhag," and with practiced ease, she swung herself into the saddle. "Hold onto the laddie and hold still." Hermione did so while Minerva wordlessly levitated them into the saddle in front of them. Jasper clapped excitedly tucked safely in his mother's arms, while Minerva wrapped one arm securely around Hermione and the other grasped the reigns. "We'll go slow, for the bairn, but Leah loves to run. Next time, I intend to let her," Minerva whispered throatily into Hermione's ear, letting the promise and intent drip from her voice.

Hermione was torn between desire from the gruff words, indignation that Minerva would dare say such things in Jasper's presence and abject terror from being on the back of something living.

"Och, don't be such a pròis. Leah is verra gentle, aye?"

"I don't know what that is, but whatever it is, I intend to continue being it until I am off this horse."

It didn't take much; a hillside view of the sparkling loch, the moors coated with purple heather, the warm comfort of Minerva's presence and Jasper's exuberance, the gentle roll of Leah's gait or the sounds of the highlands surrounding them, but eventually, Hermione relaxed, stroked Jasper's curls, and sunk into Minerva's embrace, letting her head fall against a strong shoulder and occasionally brushing her nose against a soft chin. She was almost disappointed when Minerva moved Leah back into the paddock and deposited the pair of Grangers gently back on solid ground.

Minerva gave Jasper a small currycomb and showed him how to brush the parts of Leah he could reach, which was mostly the legs. If he was to spend any time at Tarbert, she'd see he knew how to care properly for a horse. Maybe someday, one of his own. He did so, holding onto Hermione's hand so he didn't fall over.

They made their way back inside, to a dinner of Cornish game hens and roasted vegetables and the best lemon custard Hermione had ever tasted, prepared lovingly by house elves who chose to spend summers off from Hogwarts, assisting Minerva with the Tarbert estate.

As Jasper nodded off in his custard, Minerva reached for Hermione's hand and stroked her thumb over soft knuckles. "I'm so very glad you're here."

Hermione smiled. "Come on. Let's get the wee one to bed and I'll show you how glad I am to be here."

Minerva lost all power of speech and flushed to the roots of her hair as Hermione sauntered from the dining room with her son on her hip.

After ensuring Jasper was out for the night, Hermione made her way from the nursery, through the sitting room and into Minerva's enormous bedchamber. She found her lover, clad in an emerald nightie, pouring whiskey into two heavy-bottomed tumblers.

On silent, bare feet, she walked slowly to Hermione, handed her a glass, and with her now free hand, drew her close so their hips came together, eliciting a tiny gasp from the shorter witch. "To Scotland and England. May their union be long and prosperous," she rasped nibbling naughtily on Hermione's earlobe.

"Mm. Cheers," was the throaty reply.

Both witches threw back their whiskey and Minerva set both tumblers on a nearby table with a deliberate 'thunk' before pulling Hermione into a deep, thorough kiss.

In her own surroundings and ensconced in a place she had spent her life building and nurturing, Minerva was a much more assertive lover. The power and confidence that she showed in her daily work came out and gone were the nerves and shyness of before.

She neither waited for permission nor gave Hermione the opportunity to take the lead, but instead relieved her of her clothing with purpose and made love to her slowly and strongly until Hermione begged her to stop when she couldn't take any more.

The young woman had never felt so completely _taken_. It was the most erotic experience of her life.

"Woah," she said throwing a forearm across her eyes.

"Aye," Minerva answered, raining kisses on a bare shoulder and pushing damp curls from Hermione's forehead.

Hermione rolled to her side to study her lover. "How the hell do you do it?"

"What?" Minerva was still distracted by the expanse of pale skin laid before her.

"Stay so young, so… virile." She grinned maniacally.

"Ugh. That is a dreadful word, leannan. Never use it again." Minerva sighed, a bit of sadness creeping back into her voice. "I am far from young, dear one, but if you must know, the animagus keeps me _looking_ young, and I suppose, my daily runs as a healthy adult feline keep me in fairly good health. Dinnae let it fool you, lass. I wilna live forever, but as long as I do live, I shall attempt to stay young, for you." She had wanted it to sound lighthearted and flip, but it came out with earnest and yearning, hoping Hermione believed her.

"I will cherish every day, darling," Hermione answered with matched earnest, drawing her finger down a patrician nose. She then rose up on one elbow and drew Minerva's lips to her own. "Now, I am going to shut your mind off, all right, love?" and she drew practiced fingers over a slim hip, down the outside of a strong thigh and drew Minerva's knee over her own leg, opening her lover up to allow Hermione's hand to tuck into the moist folds now exposed to her.

Minerva let out a sigh and drew Hermione into another kiss. Hermione was gentle but purposed, pouring all her love into her kisses and strokes, until Minerva was no longer able to kiss her properly, but only gasp erratically into her mouth before throwing her head back in a throaty scream.

Chapter 18

Hermione woke, hours later in a tangled heap of limbs and green silk. She smiled, then giggled, then sighed happily, looking to Minerva, who looked impossibly young and unburdened in sleep.

"God, I love you," she whispered into ebony hair, settling back into a more comfy position.

She lay in those arms, unable to drop back off, her mind racing with the knowledge of what was to come. She knew, if she was ever to be truly worthy of this woman, if was ever going to be strong enough or brave enough or whole enough to deserve the love being offered to her, then what lay before her was her only course. It was then she realized there was no use in waiting any longer.

"It's time," she said to the ceiling before extricating herself from her warm sanctuary.

It didn't take long to dress, tuck a small vial in her back pocket and write a glowing note in the air above the bed with her wand.

_Dearest Minerva,_

_Please keep an ear out for Jasper, though I hope to be back before he wakes._

_Not to worry, darling, I simply couldn't sleep and decided to take to the south moor for a bit of stargazing. The sun will be up soon, so I shan't be gone long._

_I shall give your regards to Cassiopeia._

_I love you more with every breath,_

_Hermione_

She felt guilty lying to her lover, but if Minerva knew what she was about, she'd never allow it and, as it was, would be right pissed when she did find out. Best to keep it secret until she was safe back at Tarbert. So, she pulled out her map of the highlands, conducted a rudimentary locator spell and transfigured the map into an elaborate star chart to throw her lover off the scent.

She glanced in the mirror in the front hall on her way out. She looked like a muggle bandit. Black pants, turtleneck and boots topped with a black stocking cap to cover her telltale hair would hopefully keep her hidden on her trek through the moors.

She apparated about a half mile from McLaggen Manor and brazenly strode to the front gate.

It was a piece of cake at first. A couple of drops of Jasper's blood opened the gates and she eased in without making them creak. She cringed inwardly as she petrified the tiny, angry house elf who met her at the door and she snuck up the back staircase, picking her way from gut feeling.

She opened door after door silently coming upon libraries, empty bedchambers and drawing rooms, until she came upon a heavy oak door emblazoned with the Gryffindor crest. A bit of bile rose in her throat at the thought that she once shared a common room with her attacker, but the lion on the door perked up her inherent courage and she pushed open the door.

She let the door to Cormac's room shut with a quiet 'snick' and tiptoed to his canopy bed, where he was snoring quite loudly. She pointed her wand between his eyes and spoke, loudly enough to wake him.

"I'm glad you're able to sleep soundly, you fucking rapist, because I wake screaming every night when you enter my dreams."

Cormac McLaggen woke to a pair of firey brown eyes and barely got out a choked "Granger!" before Hermione let go with her unencumbered spell.

"Incarcerous!" and thick black ropes shot from Hermione's wand and wrapped themselves around Cormac trapping him in his bed.

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Minerva came awake in the quiet pre-dawn hours when it was still dark, but the world was on the verge of awakening. She smiled, stretched and rolled over to wish good morning to the astonishing witch sharing her bed. She was met with cold sheets and a brightly glowing note shining above Hermione's side.

She frowned and rolled back onto her back. Something seemed off. If Hermione was going stargazing, why not invite her? If she couldn't sleep, why not have a cup of tea and read a book, as she usually did when she awoke in the night. Minerva sat up and noticed the star chart on the table across the room, but the parchment was faintly shimmering with Hermione's magic. In fact, the whole room was heavy with it.

At that moment Jasper's cry from the other room rang out clearly. "Mama!" he cried. "Mama!"

Minerva raced into the other room to find the boy standing in his crib, his face wet and red with tears and the amulet around his neck glowing angry scarlet around his neck.

"Oh, my dear boy, come here. What's happened to your Mama, eh? I need to find her."

Jasper was inconsolable and she bounced him on her hip as she made her way back to the star chart in her bedroom. The answer was here, somewhere, concealed by Hermione's magic.

Jasper reached out a tiny hand and laid it on the parchment, stripping it of the spell that had been cast over it and the parchment changed to its true form, giving up its secret.

"Good lad, Jasper." She leaned over the map, frantic to find where Hermione had gone. A pulsing, lavender dot pulsed hotly directly over a piece of open farmland next to a large estate labeled 'McLaggen Manor'

"Dammit Hermione, what the bloody hell have you done."

Minerva sprang into action, working fast and efficiently.

"Rennie!" she called and her house elf appeared at her side with a loud 'Crack!'

"Please watch the bairn, Rennie. Hermione's gone to confront her attacker and I need to go after her."

"Of course Mistress. Come lad, let's get you changed and put back to sleep, aye? Dinnae worry, Mistress, he's in good hands. Off with ye."

"Mòran taing, Rennie."

She then sent an urgent Patronus to Harry at Godric's Hollow and another to the Ministry calling for reinforcements and apparated to McLaggen Manor, following Hermione's magical signature.

On her first approach of the gates, she was thrown back violently from the wards. She got to her feet and transformed to her animagus form. It wouldn't get her through the wards, but at least she would be camouflaged. Old highland manors were lousy with cats just like her, she'd never be noticed attempting to gain entry. As she approached the wards again, she was careful not to come so near the gates that she would be detected. How would she get through? Would she have to wait for the Ministry to arrive, and even then, would they be able to enter? What was going on inside? If she requested entry, would McLaggen simply allow her in? The striped tabby paced back and forth in front of the gates, weighing her options and becoming more distressed as minutes ticked by.

Then she saw it. A flash of glass in the moonlight. A vial. Upon closer inspection, a vial of blood. Jasper's blood. Of course. There was just enough left. She transformed and without thinking, smashed the vial against the gates and burst through the wards, tearing into the house at a dead run.

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"Ropes, Granger? I never made you for the kinky type. It's always the quiet ones, aye? I admit, I'm glad you came back for more." McLaggen sneered, his voice dripping with vile intent. "Release me, so I can give it to you proper."

"Not a chance."

Hermione's determination ignited the young Scot's anger. "You fucking bitch!" He struggled against his bonds. "Lemme go!"

"No. You have a choice, Cormac. I can gently put you under a sleeping curse and quietly take you to the Ministry myself, where you will turn yourself in for my kidnapping and rape, or, with a flick of my wand I can send a Patronus and have the entire Auror department up your arse in a matter of minutes."

"Or," another voice, dripping with the same vileness as his son's, came from the doorway behind Hermione, "I can do what my idiot son should have done in the first place and wipe your entire memory. No more Harry Potter, no more war heroine, no memory of that bastard son of yours. Clever girl, using the wee dobber's blood to break our wards, but there's nobody here to rescue you now, is there ya wicked besom."

Cormac's father raised his wand, an evil glint in his eye. "Oblivi-"

"Expelliarmus!" The evil man's wand flew from his hand and landed gracefully in the hand of Minerva McGonagall, standing in the doorway like an avenging angel, windblown and angry. She strode into the room and lifted the man, who was shorter than she by several inches, off the ground by his shirt collar. "Hello, Hamish. It's been too long. Lay, one hand on her, gomeral, and I'll chuck you from the nearest window, aye?"

"Minerva, you wretched woman." He smirked. "Thank Merlin you spent all those hours teaching me wandless magic in our Hogwarts days, eh. It's about to come in handy. We'll meet again soon," and he was gone, wandlessly and wordlessly apparating away, leaving her hand empty.

"Bollocks." Minerva flexed her hand as though she could will him back into her grasp.

"Da! No! Da! Come back and help me, you coward! Meatach! Argh!" The younger McLaggen struggled again against his bonds.

"Quiet, you. Minerva, I-" Hermione kept her wand trained on the boy on the bed while trying to gain her lover's attention.

"Don't speak." Minerva levitated a still tied Cormac off his bed and down the hall, and out of the house. The boy struggled and thrashed and screamed the entire way. Hermione had no choice but to follow behind her.

By the time they reached the manor gates, aurors had started to apparate into the perimeter around the house. Harry was the third to appear. Minerva threw her charge at his feet eliciting a frustrated grunt from the young man. "Get him out of here. The next time we meet, he'll either be in Azkaban stripes or I'll see him dead, understood, Mr. Potter?"

"Thank you, Professor. We'll take it from here." He peeked around Minerva and gave Hermione a hard look before grabbing his prisoner by the arm. "Come on mates, let's away," and he was gone, followed by his comrades.

By this time, Hermione was thoroughly abashed and near tears. "Minerva, please, I just-"

"Don't. Speak. Hermione."

She didn't. Instead, she stepped into Minerva's personal space and reached out a hand to stroke her cheek. Minerva grabbed her wrist with no sense of affection or kindness. Hard, green eyes bored into watery, frightened brown and Hermione nearly collapsed under the rage she saw boiling beneath Minerva's calm visage. Minerva closed her eyes to shut out the young woman, took a deep breath and promptly apparated them directly through Tarbert Castle's impassable wards and into the North Wing. They popped into the sitting room just as the morning sun peeked over the highland horizon, bathing the world in grey light.


	10. Part X

A/N: This section was positively excruciating to write. I wanted every word to be perfect. As a result I am both fiercely proud of it and wishing I could revise it forever. You have all been so supportive with your reviews and comments, I do hope you enjoy this too. As always, let me know what you think. I await your feedback with baited breath.

Chapter 19

Minerva dropped Hermione's wrist as soon as the sitting room materialized around them. She walked to the French doors leading to a spacious balcony and threw them open. She walked through and leaned her hands on the rail, letting the gentle breeze from dawning moor sweep over her, attempting to cool her raging temper. She took deep, steady breaths, but the events of the evening roiled through her racing mind and she was unable to calm herself.

For her part, Hermione was at a loss. She didn't know whether to leave Minerva to her thoughts or attempt to reach out and comfort her. After all, nobody was hurt and Cormac was in the custody of the Aurors now. With the exception of the surprise visit from Cormac's nasty father, everything went to plan. Hermione knew she could have handled him too. But Minerva seemed to be having trouble breathing evenly and she appeared to be trembling, despite the warm summer air filtering through the open window.

After a long silence, Hermione left the room to check on Jasper. He was sleeping soundly, but she couldn't help but notice the dried tears staining his tiny face and the slight hitch in his breath, indicating that he had, until very recently, been crying vigorously. "Mummy's home, little man. I love you." She stroked his curls, wiped his face and adjusted the tartan blanket covering him to his tummy. She watched as his breathing evened out, and his lips smacked a few times before his sleep deepened.

Hermione hadn't heard anything from the sitting room, so she walked back to find Minerva exactly where she had left her. For a moment she wondered if she had fallen asleep there until she saw the ebony head give a subtle shake and drop forward as though in despair. Hermione summoned her Gryffindor courage and took a few steps toward the balcony. As she got closer she saw the figure shaded by the dawn light stiffen and straighten up. She stopped her forward momentum.

"Minerva."

The elder witch's hands balled into fists against the railing as though willing herself not to react.

"Minerva, please. Talk to me."

This was the final straw. Minerva drew a deep breath through her nose. "Talk to you? Talk to you! I cannae even look at you right now."

Hermione cringed and fell back on her tried and true method of dispelling tension. "So, how long am I in the doghouse for, then?"

Minerva rounded on her errant lover, facing her now, but still gripping the balcony rail behind her. "Don't! Dammit Hermione don't you try to be flippant! How dare you make light of this."

"I wasn't making light, I just wanted – "

"You just wanted whatever you want. As always. You did the first fool thing that came to your head and damn everything else." Minerva started taking slow, deliberate steps toward the now shaking young woman. "You think spending a few hours in the library gives you all the knowledge you need to go full boar into dangerous situations and that you'll just come out victorious, waving your Gryffindor colors to the cheers of the masses. But you're not a child anymore, Hermione. You weren't just putting yourself on the line tonight. Tonight you risked me… and you risked Jasper. And as much as you think you know it all, Hermione Granger, tonight… you didn't." Minerva was in front of her now, looking down on her, anger flashing in her green eyes. Her beloved Scot was gone, only the Headmistress was left.

"I never thought I –"

"You're right, you didn't. And if I hadn't shown up tonight? Jasper and I would be visiting you in a padded cell in St. Mungo's. And if I can't protect you from Hamish McLaggen, that could very well be your future."

"Minerva, it's over. We got Cormac, we'll get his father. How hard can it be? Cormac's an idiot. The apple can't fall too far from the tree. You'll see. I couldn't just sit around and wait any longer for the Auror Department to pull themselves together and make a move. I had Jasper's blood. It's all I needed to go in there and get him. I did what I had to do to end this. I get that you're angry, but, Minerva…"

"No! No, Hermione. You don't understand. One doesn't just "get" Hamish McLaggen. You don't have any idea who you're dealing with. I may not be able to keep him from you, Hermione, and I very well may die trying." Hermione gave a tiny gasp at this. "You have made a powerful enemy tonight, lassie." Her next words came in a whisper, "and rekindled an old one of mine."

"Now wait just a bloody minute. When in the hell did I ever ask you to do battle for me. I am perfectly capable of handling myself Minerva McGonagall. I have more power in my pinky finger than Cormac McLaggen can fit in his private quiddich pitch. I can eviscerate him with a flick of my wand, and he bloody well knows it."

"But his father – "

"Hasn't met me. I'll take care of myself and of Jasper. You worry about you. You needn't fight my battles for me, Minerva. You said it yourself, I am no longer a child, I am a grown witch with power of my own. I don't need you!"

Minerva stepped impossibly close and Hermione was surrounded by the scent of heather and wool. "Tha's a pity, lass," A slim finger ghosted down her cheek, barely touching. "Because I need you," and Minerva McGonagall walked from the room in a swirl of robes.

Hermione was stunned. She was about to go after her lover when Jasper's soft cry came from the adjacent room. The young mother rolled her eyes and attended her son.

She lifted him from where he was standing in his crib and wiped his face and nose with the stocking cap she pulled from her head. Then she sat down in the rocking chair and with a myriad of thoughts running through her mind, slowly put her agitated child back to sleep.

Once Jasper was tucked safely back in bed, hiccoughing again, but content, she made her way through to the bedroom where her volatile love awaited her.

Minerva was tucked into the window seat, much like the night of Beltane, looking pensively out the window. Hermione was relieved to see the tense rage permeating her body was mostly dispelled. All that was left was a despair Hermione had never witnessed in her before.

"I didn't mean to imply you aren't important to me, darling. Essential, even." She took a seat across from Minerva by the window. "I just can't be seen as weak, as needing someone else for protection, or safety."

Minerva turned her sad eyes on her. "And what of love? Of comfort? Of happiness?"

"Those are all important things, Minerva, but needs? I – "

Minerva was on her feet in a second, standing in front of Hermione who had turned to face away from the window. The older placed a hand on a smooth, young cheek and left it there, leaving the truth in her eyes bare for Hermione to see.

"You need to listen to me, Leannan, because I willna say this again. It is never weakness to need another. Ever. If you need me to comfort you, I will hold you until my arms break. If you need me to protect you, I will place myself between you and death itself. If you need me to care for Jasper, I will place my very life in his hands. If you need me to love you, I will reach into you until you come apart in my arms and forget who you are. If you need me to find something, I willna stop searching until it rests at your fingertips. If you need space, I will give you the skies I adore so. If you need time, I will stop the earth's rotation. If you need me to leave you, I shall rend my heart in two and you will never see me again. But, Hermione, dinnae ever be afraid to need me. Ever."

"Oh, Minerva, I –"

She wasn't allowed to finish her thought as Minerva's lips descended on hers. The kiss was valiant and true and deep and it didn't end when Hermione's hands threaded into Minerva's tightly wound hair. It didn't end when Minerva lifted Hermione into her arms and carried her, bride style to the bed. It didn't end when Minerva gathered Hermione to her, wiping tears from smooth cheeks. It ended only with emerald eyes meeting cinnamon and Hermione's gentle sobs as Minerva whispered Gaelic into her hair as she cried herself to sleep.

Chapter 20

Minerva was startled awake by Hermione's scream.

She shook Hermione awake and was met with frightened, brown eyes. Those same eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out the memory that constantly visited her dreams.

"No. No. No. I got him. He's gone, locked away. The dreams were supposed to stop. I looked him in the eye and faced down my fear. He should be gone" She was gripping her hair and shaking her head as though she could rattle the memories free of her mind.

"Shhh. Leannan. I know. I'm here. I'm right here."

Hermione sat up, fully awake now and left the bed. "You don't know. You don't know the real reason I went to McLaggen Manor last night. Oh, you think you know. Brave Gryffindor, know-it-all, thinks she can handle it, like the bloody mountain troll. No, Minerva. I had to go there last night. I. Had. To. I had to prove to myself that he couldn't beat me. That I was stronger and more powerful than a group of fucking seventh years, that no matter how badly that bastard hurt me, that I could still take him on. I had to prove to you that I am worthy of the love you are offering me; that I'm not some simpering little girl, riding the coattails of the great McGonagall. I have to know that no matter my age or level of mastery, that you see me as an equal, Minerva. And I had to know, for myself, that it will never, ever happen to me again. I had to take my power back, don't you see? I can't let him haunt my dreams forever."

"Oh, Leannan. You underestimate my esteem for you." She rose and crossed to Hermione, deliberately not touching her. "Hermione, I thought all of those things long before I ever fell in love with you. You are bright and powerful and bursting from the seams with magic. Nobody compares to you. And that has nothing to do with my feelings for you. You earned my respect, my esteem and your place in the wizarding world, all on your own. My love for you, while steeped in all of those things, is completely separate of them."

Hermione gave a weak smile. "But he's still there. In my dreams. Will he always be?"

"No, mo chride. Not always. That is why your mother sent you to therapy. I cannot banish him, only you and time can do that, and riding half-cocked into danger willna do it either, understand?"

Hermione nodded, tears running down her face again.

"They caught you off guard, is all. It is the mark of a coward. Attack from behind. You are a fine, braw lassie and a damn powerful witch." She gathered Hermione into her arms. "Mo treun ban-leòmhann. My brave lioness. Come on. Jasper will be up soon. Let's get some tea and scones before the wee heathen awakens to tear my castle to bits, aye?"


	11. Part XI

A/N: Lots of exposition and LOTS more Romantic Minerva ahead. I promise the rest will be much less Nicholas Sparks-y. But, hey, it IS a Romance, and this part, like the last, definitely lives up to its genre. It also, once again, earns its rating.

It must be said, I open some doors in these chapters that may not necessarily be closed in the course of this particular story, however, I have basic plans for companion stories that will take us through those doors to explore this "world" a little further.

Your feedback on the last update completely overwhelmed me. Thank you all so much. I'm very glad you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This update is much the same. I am honored and humbled. If you have a reaction to my writing, good or bad, please share it with me. It is truly inspirational.

Chapter 21

Minerva watched Leah graze as she stroked chestnut curls. Hermione's head lay in her lap, nose buried in _The Mysteries of Highland Dragons_ which she had procured from the castle's extensive library.

It had been a marvelous day. Rennie was caring for Jasper and despite Hermione's protests, Minerva had managed to coax her back onto Leah, and they went for an exhilarating run over the moors to the other side of the loch, coming to rest under Minerva's favorite rowan tree.

"Why isn't this stuff part of our curriculum?" Hermione asked without looking up. "It's completely fascinating. Listen to this. 'The Celtic Sgian Droll has been known to skewer its prey with its knife-like tail and draw it directly to its mouth,' sort of like an elephant does with its trunk, I expect."

"Aye, we've lost more sheep that way."

Hermione giggled and Minerva sighed and leaned further back against the tree. Hermione noticed her lover's melancholy and closed her book, sitting up so she could look in Minerva's eyes. "You're troubled, darling." She ran a hand through the loose ebony hair at the older woman's temple. "What is it? What's swirling around in that brilliant mind?"

"I'm worried, Leannan." She caught Hermione's hand and planted a kiss on her palm, drawing it down so she could draw nonsensical patterns across the back, not meeting her eyes. "McLaggen hasn't revealed himself yet. He should have by now. He's incredibly impatient, and he hates me with more than your typical Scottish ire. I feel like the longer he waits to strike back, the worse it will be for me… and you. I cannae let my guard down, even in this place which I love most of anywhere on earth. It is… unsettling."

Hermione nodded. "Constant vigilance and all that."

"Aye"

"Tell me about him. Why is he so dangerous?"

Minerva steeled herself and drew Hermione against her, chestnut head resting against her shoulder. "You really don't know?"

Hermione shook her head. "I've never read about him anywhere. Is he someone important?"

Minerva laughed mirthlessly. "Aye, lass. Hamish McLaggen is the newest warden at Azkaban prison. He worked there as an administrator for many years, five years ago, he was promoted to Deputy Warden and just last year, when Warden Hopkirk died, he took over."

Hermione shook her head. "Poor Mafalda." She sighed heavily. "I met her you know. I introduced myself after the dust had settled and apologized for, well, knocking her out and impersonating her. She was very understanding and sweet. She hated what the Death Eaters made her do during the war. They had threatened her family. Her twins are very bright students."

Minerva kissed Hermione's forehead. "It should be said that Hubert Hopkirk died under very mysterious circumstances, but so far, nothing has been able to be tied directly to Hamish."

Hermione sat up. "You think he - " Minerva nodded and Hermione shuddered visibly. "Why does he hate you so?"

Minerva smirked and Hermione thought she detected a bit of glad satisfaction in that tiny smile. "I may have… stolen his girlfriend a few years after we had graduated from Hogwarts."

Hermione laughed. "Ladykiller." She gave Minerva a stout kiss and sat back, waiting.

"Nothing like that, leannan. I… rescued her. Hamish was… pushy. I believed she had been victimized by him and when I asked her she was… vague… so I pushed her for the truth and eventually she told me that he… forced her and was violent, so I helped her escape, brought her here, cared for her."

Hermione was riveted on Minerva's face, watching the play of emotions and shadows of memories cloud and then brighten her countenance. "How much did you care for her, Minerva?"

"I loved her." Hermione nodded and entwined their fingers, noting the past tense use of the word. "Hamish found out it was me, and swore to make me pay. I thought he'd forgotten. Clearly not."

"And this mystery woman? Someone I should be concerned about?"

Minerva shook her head. "She never truly healed from Hamish. She descended further into her mind and I couldna bring her back. She started drinking and no matter how I tried, I couldna make her better. We fell out, but I never stopped caring. All I could do was keep her close to keep an eye on her and hope that one day I could save her again."

Hermione gasped with realization. "Sybil."

Minerva smiled. "Always so perceptive."

"That rat bastard. I'll kill him myself."

"No, you won't. We'll give evidence to the Ministry that he attempted an 'Obliviate' curse on you and, despite your trespassing; it should be enough to at least launch an investigation. Then, we quietly stop getting involved and let them handle it."

Hermione sighed, nodded and put her head back on Minerva's shoulder, snuggling a bit closer. "I'm not used to being passive in situations like this. I'm used to making a plan and actively _doing something_."

"I know, dear, but this isn't wartime, aye? We cannae just burst into people's homes willy-nilly wielding the wand of justice. I'm proud of you for attempting to take back your power, Hermione, but it's time to live within the law."

Hermione smiled wickedly. "And what would 'the law' say about my evil plan to ravish you in the heather this afternoon?"

"Well, seeing as how we are still on my property, it would likely say 'Carry on, Lady Tarbert'" then she leaned down and kissed Hermione gently, slowly deepening the kiss until Hermione was compelled to throw one coltish leg over Minerva's hips, straddling her lap soundly.

"Mmm. Mistress of all She Surveys."

Hermione continued the kiss as she brought hands to Minerva's riding vest, only breaking the kiss when she realized she needed her eyes to see what she was doing. Once she had opened vest and blouse, spreading both to expose Minerva's perfect, lace-clad breasts, she began to work on the riding breeches, tucked into high leather boots. "Bloody Hell woman, all these clothes for one lousy ride?"

"One must always have the proper equipment, Miss Granger."

"Sod it," Hermione said and with a wave of her hand, Minerva's clothes were in a messy pile behind her.

Minerva peeked around Hermione, whose hands had begun to wander. "An impressive display of wandless, non-verbal magic Miss Granger, but what happened to 'some things are better without'?"

Hermione, now thoroughly worked up, stopped her oral exploration of Minerva's long neck to make eye contact. "Are you a witch or aren't you?"

Without breaking eye contact, Minerva simply responded, "Aye," and Hermione's clothes joined her own.

A strong hand behind Hermione's neck drew her back into a kiss as Minerva's free hand trailed over Hermione's shoulder, caressed a full, ready breast, circled a bare navel and gently teased the dark curls and Hermione's apex. Hermione arched into the wandering fingers, attempting to gain more purchase as her hands linked behind her lover's neck. "A bit anxious, are we?" Minerva purred, taking a nipple in her mouth.

"Minerva, we can go slow next time, I swear. You needn't wait. Now. Please," her hips were rocking and a tiny furrow had appeared between her eyes.

It was all the encouragement she needed. With great care, but purpose, Minerva slid two fingers into Hermione. The copious wetness she found there was a bit of a surprise and her arousal skyrocketed. She groaned and buried her teeth in Hermione's shoulder. No more words were needed. Hermione rocked and brought one hand down to dip between Minerva's own, spread thighs. The position was awkward, the rowan bark was digging uncomfortably into Minerva's back and Hermione's knees were becoming stained with green grass and purple flowers, but neither cared as they climaxed together, sunk boneless into each other, kissed softly and giggled like schoolgirls.

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The ride back to the castle was slow and leisurely, both women enjoying the closeness and Leah's easy gait, but Hermione was fidgeting, trying to quiet her mind.

"Hermione, either sit still or out with it. You're driving me mad."

Hermione sighed, unsure where to begin. "Forgive me, darling. I know I have no reason to be insecure, but I saw in your eyes how much you loved Sybil, and I can't help but wonder, if we were able to somehow rescue her from herself…" she trailed off, but steeled herself and continued. "She's much closer in age to you, and you've shared so much, I just – "

Minerva reigned up and stopped the horse. "Hermione Granger, after what we just shared, in broad daylight, I might add, you dare doubt my love for you?"

Hermione did her best to turn in the saddle and look at her lover. "No, never, but I don't doubt your love for her either."

"Ancient history, Leannan. I promise you. But surely you understand my need to protect her."

"Of course. If you didn't, you would not be the woman I fell in love with. I am sorry, truly. Just a really old inferiority complex getting the best of me."

"Well, enough of that, aye? I'll not have you comparing yourself to Sybil Trelawney." Minerva drew a confident finger down a blushing cheek. "Apples and oranges, love."

Hermione smiled and nodded and Minerva gave Leah a gentle kick to her flank, moving them quietly on.

Chapter 22

The next month brought still no closure to the 'Hamish Problem' as Minerva termed it, but she fought valiantly to suppress her unease and the little trio fell into an easy, relaxed routine.

Jasper's first birthday was celebrated in grand style with a party at Tarbert Castle which included Harry and an uncomfortably pregnant Ginny, Hermione's parents, who were warm and kind to Minerva, if a little uncomfortable with the unconventional relationship and, to Minerva's great chagrin, Ronald Weasley.

"I couldn't not invite him, Minerva, he's a part of my life, whether you like it or not. We're trying to be friends and he wants to know Jasper; and frankly, given the poor kid's parentage, the more positive males he has in his life, the better."

"Aye, weel. You may have forgiven him, but I have not, nor do I have any intention to anytime soon."

"Then pout like a child, but it's like you said to me recently, darling. Ancient. History." She punctuated each word with a stout kiss on pursed lips. "Besides, what happened between me and Ronald wasn't entirely his fault, truth be told."

Minerva only raised a curious eyebrow and let the matter drop.

Ron took one look at Minerva upon entering Tarbert Castle and was on his very best behavior.

That night, after the guests had gone, the elves had cleaned up dinner and cake and the remains of wrappings from several dozen gifts had been banished to rubbish bins, Jasper sat on the bed between Hermione and Minerva, gallantly fighting sleep. He was drowsily making his new toy wand shoot tiny yellow flower blossoms across the bedsheets as Minerva used her own to make them dance in patterns above his head.

Hermione watched, fighting tears and listening to her own heart pound at the thought of what she was about to do. She leaned over and pulled a large, bound scroll from the drawer in the nightstand, closed her eyes and bit her lip, summoning her courage. In a quiet, almost broken voice, she spoke. "Minerva, I have a gift for you."

"For me?" her wand paused and so did the flowers, allowing Jasper to catch them in tiny fists. "Why for me? It isna my birthday."

Hermione smiled. "No, but it is sort of a gift for Jasper too, and for me. If you agree, that is." Her nerves were getting the better of her and she began second guessing if Minerva would even want this. "When we were at the Ministry last week, I took the liberty of having this drawn up. All it needs is your signature. Again, only if you agree." Hermione pressed the scroll into Minerva's hands and fought tears as she looked down at her own shaking fingers. "Please read it."

Minerva, confused and not a little worried, seeing Hermione's reaction, pulled the red ribbon from the scroll and unrolled it, putting on her reading glasses from her own nightstand. Hermione was riveted on her features, trying to read her reaction to the content on the parchment, but Minerva gave nothing away. When she was finished reading, she removed her glasses and placed an open palm on the back of Jasper's head, which was now laying in her lap, emitting soft snores.

"Minerva, please say something."

Minerva turned tearful green eyes on Hermione, finally allowing her to see the emotion racing through her. "These are adoption papers, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, looking away, only able to get out a whispered, "Yeah."

"I… don't know what to say. Look at me." She picked up one of Hermione's fidgeting hands and entwined it with her own. Hermione turned her face to Minerva and the tears came in earnest. "Are you sure? We've only been together a few months, Hermione. You must be absolutely sure."

"Minerva, you have been a part of Jasper's life from the moment he was born, longer than I have, in fact. You are as much his mother as I am, whether we are together or not. You gave him his name, for Merlin's sake. This just makes it official, and prevents anyone, myself included, from being able to ever take him from you. I have never been more sure of anything in my life, but if you're not ready, or you would rather just – "

She was cut off by a soft thumb caressing her mouth as Minerva's palm cupped her cheek. "Shhh." A tear rolled down Minerva's pale cheek. "If I do this, it's for always. You, me, him. Understand?"

Hermione nodded, silent.

Without saying more, Minerva lifted the sleeping child into her arms and carried him out of the room. Upon laying him gently in his crib, her heart swelled until she thought it might burst. "You are my child, now, Mac; and I am your màthair," and she left the room still clutching the scroll in one hand.

Hermione watched from the bed, afraid to move as she watched Minerva cross wordlessly to the roll top desk in the corner, draw out a quill and ink and with little flourish and no hesitation, place her iconic signature at the bottom of the scroll in emerald green ink. She then crossed the room, removed her dressing gown on her way, leaving only her light summer shift, and climbed under the cool sheets of her bed, facing Hermione. She handed her the signed scroll and Hermione couldn't tell if she was angry or in shock, but she seemed anything but happy. Then Minerva spoke.

"What you have given me this night, luaidh mo chèile, cannae be expressed in word or deed, but I want you to look into my eyes and see the depth of what it means to me. He is mine now, as you are mine and as he is yours. I dinnae take it lightly, and I have never been so very happy," and Minerva McGonagall finally allowed herself to smile through her tears.

Hermione's face crumpled and she released a choked sob before throwing herself into Minerva's arms. "You are a fantastic mum," Hermione whispered into the shell of Minerva's ear. The elder buried one hand into riotous brown curls and the other held a vicegrip on her young love's waist as she cried tears of joy into the curve of Hermione's neck.


	12. Part XII

A/N: We're nearing the end. Thank you all for your feedback. It is gold.

Chapter 23

The next morning, Ginny Potter went into labor. The day after that, after a grueling, exhaustive delivery, James Sirius Potter was born.

Hermione sat in Ginny's room in St. Mungo's. Ginny was nursing James while Hermione sat on her bed and watched Jasper rock his stuffed owl like a baby, cooing softly.

Harry left the room on the pretense of getting coffee. Ginny suspected he was giving the girls time to talk.

Hermione looked after him. "He's still angry with me, I suppose."

"He's worried about you, Hermione. You have to admit, what you did was pretty reckless, even if you did get Cormac. And now you've got his father after you. I just think he's really concerned. You know how Harry gets when he doesn't know what to do or he feels like he can't protect everyone. He'll get over it. Just give him time. He's a dad now, so he's likely to get even more protective."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Minerva was right honked off too. I've never seen her so angry, Gin. I thought she'd never speak to me again. She was terribly frightened. I was more afraid of how much I hurt her that night than I was when McLaggen had his wand trained at my head."

"She loves you. Can you blame her?"

"I love her too, more than I ever thought I'd love anyone."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione, but does it feel rushed? Her adopting Jasper, I mean. The two of you have only just started this relationship."

Hermione shrugged. "True, but she and Jasper haven't. She's been caring for him longer than I have. It just made sense. I wanted her to know how important she is to his life, and to mine."

"It's really good to see you happy, Hermione. She looks really good on you."

Hermione blushed prettily. "I'll never know how you knew before I did, but I guess I should be thanking you. I would have lived in denial forever if you hadn't given me hell that night."

Ginny leaned forward and put one hand on Hermione's knee. "You forget, dearest, that I've seen that look on you before."

Hermione's blush deepened. "We swore we'd never speak of that again."

Ginny shrugged. "Must be the glow of new motherhood making me nostalgic."

She shifted James, who was now sleeping and covered herself modestly, trying to burp the baby gently.

At that moment, Harry re-entered the room, without coffee and Hermione took that as her cue to leave the new little family in peace.

"I should go. I promised Minerva curry, which means I need to make a stop in Hogsmeade on my way back to Tarbert. Take good care of my godson, all right?" She laid a hand on James' back as she kissed Ginny on her forehead. She then squeezed Harry's harm as she leaned up to buss his cheek affectionately. "Love you both." She held out her hand to her son. "Come on, Jas, let's go see Min."

"Aye!" shouted Jasper as he took his mother's hand.

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July passed into August and Hermione watched every day from the North Wing balcony as the colors on the moors became a deeper green, the vibrancy of the heather coating the hills faded to a sweet, lavender color and the trees began to show signs of yellowing. It symbolized the change that was coming in the quiet little life they had made here in the highlands. Geographically, Hogwarts wasn't more than a few dozen miles as the owl flies; metaphorically, it might as well have been one of Minerva's stars, worlds away.

They knew this time would come. They had discussed it, argued about it, made decisions and changed their minds, but it couldn't wait any longer. Tomorrow they would return to Hogwarts, not as mother, child and lover, but as a family. So many things were still up in the air.

Minerva wanted to marry, Hermione didn't.

"_I've done the marriage thing, Minerva. It was a disaster."_

"_It wouldna be with us. What of Jasper?"_

"_I told you, adopting Jasper was for permanence for the two of you, so you will always have each other, even if something happens to me, or to us. I'm not going anywhere, Minerva. We are a family, as much as any other. Marriage? Maybe someday, but not right now."_

Hermione wanted to move into Minerva's rooms in the castle. Minerva insisted on informing the Board of Governors of their relationship first.

"_What business is it of theirs where I live, so long as my work is sufficient?"_

"_There may not be a written rule about colleagues entering into romantic relationships, but I am the head of this institution and I refuse to risk my professional reputation or cheapen what we have by secreting you away like some clandestine affair!"_

"_And if they don't give their blessing?"_

The last week had been smattered with little rows like this and nothing solid had truly been decided. Now, as Hermione stood on the balcony on their last afternoon at Tarbert, she watched the rain soak every inch of the grounds, giving the world a watercolor feel. She hadn't bothered with an umbrella charm. She simply let the water soak her through. Her hair, red tanktop and black linen pants were all dripping wet, but still she stood and watched and thought. She was pulled from her musings when she noticed the rain was no longer falling on her.

"Woolgathering is ill advised in the rain, lassie. Damp wool smells terrible."

Minerva had cast an umbrella charm from the French doors. She stepped forward, protected by the magic now covering the entire balcony. She pushed one limp dripping curl behind Hermione's ear and bent to plant a sweet kiss on rain-soaked lips. "You're all wet, leannan."

"Mmm. Around you? Always." Hermione returned the kiss before turning her attention back to the security of the silent moors. "Jasper down?"

Minerva nodded. "What do we do, my love? I dinnae want to fight anymore."

"Me neither. So, we do what every other functioning couple in the world does. We compromise." She held up a hand, cutting off any response. "Here's what I've got so far. We'll go to the Governors… tomorrow. We'll tell them we've been snogging since May and shagging since June. Then we move in together, blessing or no. If we are denied their _permission_," she spat the word out as though it tasted like Skele-Gro," I will leave your illustrious employ and take the Ministry up on one of their lucrative offers. No, those weren't empty threats just to eke a grand, romantic gesture out of you. And I commute to London, or work from home, or something. I will put Jasper in that adorable little daycare in Hogsmeade so the poor elves aren't stuck with corralling a toddler whilst attempting to feed, clothe and care for the hundreds of Hogwarts miscreants. As for marriage, love of my life…" at this she turned and drew Minerva close, dampening the front of the baby blue summer robes she wore, "you are the most valiantly romantic rogue I have ever met in my life; and I know a guy who romanced a _veela_. I guess you'll just have to woo me."

Minerva smiled. "That sounds like a very sound plan, leannan. Will you allow me to chime in?"

Hermione nodded and Minerva continued. "I took the liberty of speaking to an old friend at St. Mungo's. They've offered to allow you to continue your Healer's Apprenticeship under Poppy's supervision. You can work under her in the hospital wing, but would essentially be employed by the hospital, rather than Hogwarts, therefore eliminating any conflict of interest." Minerva raised her eyebrows at Hermione, gauging her reaction.

Hermione thought, then broke out in a smile. "That sounds perfect, though I would like to at least attempt to keep my job first. I can study with Poppy and still teach my classes, unless the Governors all decide to be old, wrinkly fuddy-duddys. An apprenticeship wouldn't pay me enough to support Jasper, and before you say anything, yes, I know you can support all of us, but I need to contribute to this family too. All right?"

Minerva nodded. "One more thing, mo chride." She tread delicately here. "I suggest you let me do the talking with the Governors. Telling them we're 'shagging' is probably not the best approach."

Hermione gave a belabored sigh. "If you insist, although, not everyone on the board is a bloody saint. You forget, three of the new members are contemporaries of mine. I have it on good authority that Blaise Zabini slept with all of his Slytherin class and half of Ravenclaw while at Hogwarts. Plus, I know for a fact that Katie Bell spent her entire seventh year shagging Rolanda Hooch in the Quiddich locker room. I wouldn't be surprised if they still hook up once in a while. Talk about dipping your quill in the company inkwell, eh? You should know, that the Prefect bathroom has seen more action than – "

"Stop! Hermione, I beg you to stop."

"I'm only saying, I would be happy to remind my old schoolmates that those hallowed halls were often a veritable den of iniquity on many occasions. It may… sway opinions in our favor."

"Don't you dare." Minerva shook her head as though trying to rid it of the recent images. "Those things may have happened under Dumbledore's ample nose, but not under mine."

Hermione snorted. "So, you're saying I didn't break up a group of seventh year Hufflepuffs 'working on their star charts' on the Astronomy Tower last term?"

"They may have been telling the truth"

"The telescopes were capped and Declan Shaugnessy had crimson lipstick from his ear to his neck."

"Aye, weel"

"Face it, darling. You lock a whole lot of teenagers and a bunch of adults in a magical castle; do you really think you can control everything that goes on?"

"Och, and what, pray tell, did you get up to as a student, my innocent little Gryffindor?"

Hermione grinned mischievously, snuggling close to Minerva's slim body. "I was something of a… late bloomer. I spent most of my time in the library, but I was rather adept at accessing the Restricted Section, and I once came across an old Qudditch Monthly Swimsuit Issue. Fell right out of an old Experimental Transfiguration tome. No idea how it got there," she leaned up so her lips ghosted against the shell of Minerva's blushing ear, "but it included some lovely photos of the 1955 Scottish National Team. I still have it, if you're interested." She said cryptically as she walked off the balcony, removing her soaked tank as she went.

Minerva swallowed and with a voice gruff with disbelief whispered "An truaighe mura. I thought I burned all those copies."

Chapter 24

The Governors made them sweat it out for a couple of days, but ultimately allowed them to continue their relationship on castle grounds, given Minerva's new status as Jasper's mother and the history of Hogwarts teachers getting married while employed there. The teacher/headmistress dynamic set a new precedent, but the young blood on the board reminded the older members that sometimes love is more important than old unwritten rules. The decision would have made Dumbledore proud.

Hermione followed through with enrolling Jasper in the Little Wizards daycare in Hogsmeade and made arrangements with Poppy to complete a few hours in the hospital wing each week to slowly work towards her Healer's license again while still teaching her classes. It would keep her busy, but with Minerva helping with Jasper, they all promised to make it work.

So, it was with considerably lighter minds and truly exhausted bodies that the little family collapsed in their now shared sitting room a week before term started.

Hermione read "Which Witch is Which" to Jasper for the hundredth time as he giggled at the moving pop-up pictures that erupted from each page. By the time she got to the Tiny Tired Witches on the last page, Jasper was curled up in her lap, snoring softly.

She rose to put him down and as she passed Minerva on the sofa, her lover caught her hand and her attention. "I love you," she said simply.

"I love you too," Hermione responded, and left the room to put her son to sleep.

They met in the middle of the bed and kissed languidly for endless minutes before falling asleep holding each other.

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Minerva woke to a sharp burning sensation on her sternum. She looked down at Hermione, who was draped across her in sleep. The brightly glowing jasper amulet around the sleeping woman's neck had been lying against Minerva in their entwined position, burning hot as it glowed, alerting them to danger.

"Hermione."

"Mm"

"Hermione, wake up." Minerva was moving now, getting up to see to Jasper. "Something's wrong with Jasper. Your amulet is glowing and burning hot." She tore from the room towards the nursery, Hermione on her heels.

The sight that greeted them at the door to Jasper's room brought Hermione to her knees. A dementor, floating, ephemeral, dark was hovering above Jasper's crib. The soft red glow from Jasper's amulet gave the scene a creepy, horrifying aura as Hermione felt all of her life's happiness sucked from the room. She was debilitated, incapable of defending herself or her son.

Then, as Minerva began to draw her wand to cast her Patronus, a bright, silvery form shot from the crib, straight up into the center of the dementor. The creature let out an unholy shriek and disappeared through the stone wall of the castle. The tiny silver fox, swept once, around the room and out the door past the two women and out into the main corridor of the castle.

Hermione could only sob, crushed by the knowledge that at his most vulnerable, she was unable to protect her son.

Minerva calmly lifted Jasper from his crib. He wasn't even crying, just lying in his crib, pointing a finger at the ceiling and calling "Booo! Boooo!"

She placed Jasper in Hermione's arms and she curled around him on the floor, rocking him back and forth and apologizing into the top of his head. Minerva knelt to her level and got her attention with a hand on her cheek. "Stay here with him, Leannan. Where there are dementors, there is Hamish McLaggen. I have to go find him, aye?"

Hermione nodded, and kissed Minerva soundly. "Please be careful, darling. Come back to me," and Minerva was gone.

Hermione wasted no time, pulling out her wand and sending her Patronus to Harry, alerting him to an intruder in the castle.

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When Minerva got to the end of the hallway, she looked around and saw a soft silver glow coming from the left corridor, so she headed that way. She was met with Jasper's little fox Patronus, floating around an empty classroom, but the feel of discontent was heavy in the air, indicating the recent presence of more dementors.

She was startled by a voice coming from behind her.

"Well, well, well. The little bastard takes after his grandda, aye? Able to command dementors even as a bairn.

"What do you want, Hamish."

"Och, weel. I came for the bairn, he's my grandson, after all. He deserves to be raised in a proper household, not with his whore of a mother in an unholy household with a succubus such as yourself. But you are a much better prize, hen. I've been waiting to have this duel for many a year, Minerva. You took something verra precious from me, so now I'll just take you."

"Do your worst, gomeral."

They threw spell after spell at each other at rocket fire speed, but the moment Minerva heard Jasper's strangled cry coming from around the corner, she took her mind off of Hamish for a split second. It was just enough time for Hamish to gain the upper hand.

He screamed "Sectusempra!" with such vehemence that Minerva was thrown into the classroom, landing hard on one of the wooden tables, blood pouring from the wounds opening one after the other across her torso.

"Jasper, no!" Hermione tore around the corner after her toddling son, to be met face to face with Hamish McLaggen and a prone Minerva, bleeding beyond the classroom door. "Oh, god. Minerva." She gathered Jasper to her and looked up to the tall, gruff man stalking towards her.

Hamish advanced towards Hermione with a wicked gleam in his eye. "I'll be taking my grandson now, hen. He'll be in good hands."

"Over my dead body." She pulled out her wand.

"Oh, that can be arranged, siùrtach" He raised his wand to match her stance.

"Stupefy!" Came from a shaky voice behind Hamish and he fell to the ground, face first, revealing a dumbstruck Sybil Trelawney, wand-in-hand.

At that point, the entire corridor filled with people. Staff, Aurors, house elves and Harry Potter all converged on the scene and burst into action. Hermione hugged Jasper closer, lifted him up and raced towards Minerva, squeezing Sybil's frozen wand arm on her way. Poppy beat her there, beginning to chant healing spells at the same time she levitated her and started towards the hospital wing. The Aurors surrounded Hamish, bound him in ropes and hauled him away, still stunned. The house elves, unsure what else to do, began scourgifying the blood that had spilled onto the classroom floor from Minerva's ruined body.

"Hermione!" Harry's voice rang out over the cacophony. "I know you need to go to her, but I have to know what happened tonight."

The terrified, trembling witch relayed what she knew to her best friend, still clutching her son to her chest. "That evil, wicked curse, Harry. God, there was so much blood," and she dissolved into tears.

"That's some amulet you have there 'Mione. Wicked powerful artifact. I'll start the preliminary reports, but we'll need you to come back in with Minerva, when she's better, to give a full accounting." There was no doubt in his voice, no question of_ if_ she got better, only _when_; only his unshaking faith in good. At this moment, he gathered her to him, squeezing Jasper between them. "She'll be ok, Hermione. She has to be. Go to her. We'll talk tomorrow, all right?"

Hermione nodded and before leaving the corridor turned to Sybil, who still hadn't moved, even to lower her wand. "Harry. Care for her. Please. She'll need help and she saved our lives tonight." She called to the terrified seer. "Sybil. Thank you. I'll find a way to repay you. I promise," and she tore off down the corridor in the direction of the hospital wing, Jasper waving to Harry over his mother's shoulder.

The scene she was met with could only be described as carnage. Bandages and potion bottles littered the floor and Poppy stood over Minerva, chanting and chanting, pouring dittany over the wounds and blood replenishing potions down her throat, meanwhile never stopping the steady stream of chants emerging from her lips.

Minerva had turned a pallid grey color; all life, all spirit utterly gone from her features. The rents in her clothing had been torn further open to expose the rents in her flesh, which were still oozing blood, though it looked like the bleeding had, at the very least slowed. Whether that was because she was getting better or had lost so much blood, Hermione couldn't be sure. Her breaths came in fits and starts, rather than the calm, soothing rise and fall Hermione was accustomed to.

"Min!" Jasper cried. "Min!" He squirmed and wiggled, begging to be let down.

Hermione tried to shush him and held on tight so he wouldn't get in Poppy's way.

Poppy looked up at the interruption and, for the first time, stopped her endless chanting.

"Hermione."

"H-how is she?"

Poppy lowered her head to look at her patient. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm doing everything I can. I may have been too late. The rest is up to her, I'm afraid." She turned back to Minerva, spoke a final series of chants, lowered her wand and placed an affectionate hand on Minerva's shoulder, one of the few places not ripped open by Hamish's spell.

Hermione made her way over to the bed, setting Jasper down next to his 'Min' "You listen to me, Minerva McGonagall. I will not have you die on me, do you understand? You are to fight. You are to wake up and look me in the eye and tell me what a fool I am for getting us into this. Right now, do you hear me? If you have to yell at me, fine, but you will do it here and now, not in some bloody afterlife a century down the road." Tears were pouring down her face and her heart settled in her stomach.

Minerva took one deep, shuddering breath and said "I love you both, so verra much," and went very still.

It was as though a lorry had parked on her sternum. She couldn't get a full breath.

"No. No. No. No. No. Minerva, no! Wake up. Please. Please don't leave me." She leaned over Minerva and sobbed into the crook of her cool neck, hands clutching at the bloody robes. There was no movement from the quiet form. No warmth, no breath. "Minerva no. I need you. I need you so much. I'm sorry I couldn't say it before, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. Please. I need you. I need you. I need you." She repeated herself over and over, tears falling on her lover's hair and cheeks.

It was Jasper that pulled her from her vigil. "Mama hep! Mama!"

Hermione looked up and Jasper was clutching his amulet, crawling into Hermione's lap. "Hep Min! Hep!"

Realization washed over her like a typhoon and hope flared in her heart. "Oh, Jas. You clever lad." She lifted the necklace from his neck and gently wound it around Minerva's, over her hair to rest in Hermione's favorite spot between her breasts. She felt like she should say something, perform an incantation or offer up a prayer to whatever wizarding deity was in charge of things like this, but in the end, all it took was the amulet itself.

Within moments, the amulet became so heated that it began to leave small, round burn marks on the sternums of both women. The pain pierced Hermione, but the amulet remained, her physical connection to whatever fighting spirit was left inside her lover. Hermione watched as Minerva's torn skin began to knit back together, without the aid of Poppy's dittany and a warm flush crept from the jasper stone into Minerva's extremities and then into her face, restoring the beauty and youth that normally accompanied the woman in repose. One solid deep breath led to more as Minerva's heartbeat evened out and the hand Hermione held in her own squeezed, hard enough to hurt.

Hermione kissed Jasper on the head as he grinned and giggled and when she looked back to Minerva she was met with those startling, wide green eyes she fell into every day. "Oh, my love. Welcome back. I thought you'd left me."

"Weel." Minerva reached up a weak hand to stroke Hermione's disheveled hair. "If you say you need me, Leannan, I cannae just go awah, aye?"

Hermione laughed through her tears and kissed Minerva until she could no longer breathe evenly again. "Not in front of the bairn, lassie. You'll scar the wee heathen."

"No way, lady. He'll have to get used to seeing his mothers snog. I have no intention of ever stopping," and she leaned in for another thorough kiss.

When they broke away, Minerva lifted a shaking hand to Hermione's cheek. "Marry me, Hermione. I love you."

Hermione smiled and then winked. "Nice try, darling. I'm afraid you'll have to do better than a near death experience, my valiant rogue. When I said woo, I meant woo." She tapped her lover on the nose before wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Cho righinn ri cat"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Cho righinn ri cat!" came from the small boy now patting Minerva affectionately on the head.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Did you just teach our son a gaelic profanity?"

Minerva's heart filled at hearing 'our son' from Hermione's lips. "Nay, lass. It means 'stubborn as a mule,' aye mac?"

"Aye!" yelled Jasper.


	13. Part XIII

Chapter 25

Minerva McGonagall was about to go mad. She hadn't left her blasted hospital bed in nearly a week and she hadn't had a waking moment to herself in three days.

The night of her attack, as soon as Minerva was fully awake and responsive, Poppy had discreetly left the little family in peace to check for injuries amongst the rest of the staff and elves. She hadn't been overly surprised to learn that the History Professor and Headmistress were involved, but she was fairly taken aback at the depth and intensity of the feelings expressed in her ward that night. After a few minutes she had begun to feel as though she was spying on something private, so she found another place to be. She had returned assisting a shell-shocked Sybil Trelawney into a bed on the opposite end of the room.

Minerva had watched as Poppy gently administered a Calming Draught and spent a few minutes talking to Sybil. She couldn't hear what was said, but within minutes, Sybil was sinking into sleep and Poppy had made her way back to Minerva's side, shooing Hermione off the bed and fussing about.

Since then, only Hermione was allowed to visit for the first few days, driving Minerva into bouts of boredom that had her climbing the walls. After that had been a deluge of visitors as the entire staff and half the Ministry came to visit, bearing gifts and asking questions until she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

Sybil had been released without speaking a word the morning after the attack, so she was the lone inhabitant of the ward.

But tomorrow was the Welcoming Feast, and she, thank Merlin, had been cleared to attend. It was one of her favorite evenings of the entire school year and she would have been loath to miss it.

Hermione strode in as she was finishing a chapter in her latest Prospera Prince Mystery novel. A series of wizarding detective books that her evil lover insisted she read rather than her latest Transfiguration journals. She smiled. Hermione looked breezy and happy in muggle jeans and a ratty t-shirt with the London Underground symbol emblazoned on the front. "You look delicious, Leannan. You are a sight for sore eyes."

"Mum and Dad wanted one more day with Jasper before school started, so I popped down to Surrey for the morning, hence the muggle garb. I'll pick him up tomorrow and be back before the Express arrives. Enjoying your book?" She grinned.

"Hermione Granger, you are perfectly aware that this is bloody drivel. But since Warden Pomfrey won't let me go to either the library or my study, and all you bring me is trashy fiction, I am clearly stuck with it. And now you tell me we are childless for the evening and I'm trapped here." She pouted.

Hermione laughed and sat on the bed at Minerva's hip. "You are supposed to rest, darling. No work and none of your depressing dystopian literature. Healer's orders."

"Oh, you're my healer, then, aye?"

"I am a healer in training. I need to practice my irritatingly cheerful bedside manner."

"I see. Well, have at it, then."

Hermione made a pretense of clearing her throat and sitting up straight.

"How are you feeling today, Headmistress."

"Fit as a fiddle Healer Granger. May I leave the ward today?"

"I'm afraid not, Headmistress. You are still showing signs of weakness. I'm going to have to run some tests."

"What sorts of tests, Healer?" Minerva asked, playing along.

Hermione leaned close enough that her words could be felt on Minerva's lips, but they did not touch. "Oh, I'm afraid these tests are most unpleasant, Headmistress. They are quite… invasive." She let her mouth barely brush Minerva's before backing off to find flashing emerald eyes.

"I shall endure, Healer Granger, carry on."

At this, Hermione dropped the act and leaned in for a proper kiss. She allowed a whimper to escape her throat as their tongues met and the fire was lit.

Minerva's hand snuck under the soft cotton of her t-shirt to find even softer skin beneath. The hand snuck higher to caress one round breast through her padded bra as Hermione lay down to press her body against Minerva's. The kisses deepened and became more heated until Hermione leaned up, breaking the kiss and leaning her forehead against Minerva's. "Merlin, I miss you."

Mienrva's free hand dove into brown curls as her other snuck underneath the bra, making Hermione's breath hitch. "Aye, lass, tha mi gad ionndrainn gu mòr."

Hermione groaned. "I haven't a clue what that means, but it's sexy as hell," and she sunk into another kiss. She was momentarily bereft as the hand stroking her hardened nipple was removed and traveled down her torso to dip into the loose waist of her jeans. A flick of her wrist popped the button and lowered the zipper, giving her lover more room to maneuver. "Yes," she breathed.

The sound of clicking heels on the wood floor outside of their tiny bubble of arousal brought both witches abruptly to their senses. Hermione's lips ceased their exploration of Minerva's swan-like neck and Minerva's hand froze just before reaching into Hermione's knickers. Cinnamon eyes met moss green for a split second before Minerva shifted her gaze to that of a very stern-looking Poppy Pomfrey standing in the doorway to the ward. It was clear she couldn't see where all four hands were, but she had gotten the idea and was suitably flushed.

Minerva licked her lips and summoned her courage. "Poppy, could you give us a minute, please?"

Without a word, the healer crossed into her small office and shut the door.

Minerva turned her attention back to her young lover, who had her eyes squeezed shut and her lips pressed together. She was shaking her head erratically as if trying to shake something from her mind.

"She's gone for the moment, Hermione. You need to sit up and put yourself back together. I assure you, dear, Poppy Pomfrey has seen much more scandalous things in this room over her many years here."

Hermione's eyes flashed with anger as she stood, corrected her clothes and began pacing. "I can't believe I was just caught snogging one boss by another. This is humiliating. I have to work with that woman, Minerva! How can I even look her in the face now?"

The voice from behind her caused her to whirl around and cease her pacing. "By accepting my thanks for cheering up a most difficult patient," said Poppy from the doorway of her office. She tutted at the flustered young woman. "Honestly, dear, we are all adult women. I'm sure we're all capable of moving past an awkward moment and being professionals." She smiled. "And if that doesn't work, I hear you are most adept at memory charms."

Hermione blushed.

"I am happy for you, Hermione, and Minerva. Just try to remember that she is getting on in years and her heart may not be what it used to be." Hermione was delighted with the twinkle she found in Poppy's eye at that remark.

"Oh, bugger off, Poppy. You're just jealous."

Poppy laughed. "Piffle, I am perfectly happy with my dotty husband, thank you. Wait until Ro finds out, though. You haven't seen jealousy yet."

Minerva smiled in spite of herself. "Aye, weel. Rumor has it Rolanda Hooch has nothing to complain about in the young lover department."

Poppy raised one eyebrow and changed the subject. "One more night here on your best behavior, Headmistress and I will release you tomorrow morning. Agreed?"

"Only if you allow me reading material that will not make me even more daft than I already am."

"Deal," and Poppy escaped back into her office.

Hermione sighed and turned red again. "I'm sorry for getting carried away, darling. I just missed you. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise."

"Too right, you will. You may start by giving me a proper goodbye kiss, finding me something worthwhile to read and finishing your lesson plans, which I know you are dying to revise one last time before turning them into your dragon lady boss."

Hermione rolled her eyes and got her revenge by bestowing a kiss on Minerva that made it impossible for her to focus on reading anything for several hours.

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The Welcoming Feast was a joy, as usual; even more so this year as she was attending after a marvelous afternoon in bed with her young, nubile, eager lover, causing a secret mischief to come through her Mona Lisa smile. They had gone together to Surrey to collect Jasper and were back in time to greet the Hogwarts Express as it chugged into Hogsmeade Station. Jasper was overcome with excitement. Now, Minerva sat as close to Hermione as possible with Jasper in between them at the head table and watched as a new batch of cubs were sorted into Gryffindor and the light of a thousand candles shone in her love's eyes.

After her speech the prefects began to lead their fledgling students to their dorms, Minerva turned to her left, where two seats down, Sybil Trelawney was looking intently into the bottom of Filius Flitwick's teacup, no doubt attempting to divine his future from the soggy lump of tea leaves.

"Filius, may I speak to Sybil for a moment?"

Professor Flitwick patted Sybil on the hand and stood, looking relieved to be given an escape plan as Minerva took his seat.

On his way past Hermione, he reached out and placed a hand on her elbow gaining her attention. "I want to congratulate you, Miss Granger, on Minerva's adoption of Jasper." He looked like he wanted to say more and settled for, "Take care of her," with a genuine smile.

Hermione blushed, and nodded graciously. She still wasn't sure how many people knew of their unorthodox family arrangement, but they weren't doing a great deal to keep it a secret, and thus far, people who were so compelled were doing a fine job of making their awareness known. It was an acceptable arrangement for Hermione and thus far, the only negative reaction had been from Lawrence Cuthbert, the new Transfiguration Professor, whom Hermione suspected of carrying a torch for his predecessor.

She glanced down the table and made a pretense of cleaning Jasper up and making him giggle while trying to interpret the facial expression of the two elder witches.

"Sybil, how are you feeling." Minerva spoke quietly.

Sybil looked up from the tea leaves, seemingly surprised at the change in her companions.

"Quite well, for the time being, though my own tea leaves portend great trouble in future," she squinted through her thick spectacles.

"Yes, I'm sure they do." Minerva tried to mask her annoyance with a discipline she still couldn't understand. "Sybil, I wanted to thank you, for coming to Hermione's rescue last week, and for saving both of our lives, and Jasper's too. Your arrival in that corridor was most… fortuitous and I hope someday we will be able to repay you for it."

Sybil removed her glasses and for a moment, Minerva thought she spotted a glimpse of the friend, the love, she used to have in this broken woman. There was a flash of lucidity in lavender eyes that Minerva hadn't seen in decades. But it was gone quickly, replaced by the thin fog of dreamy opaqueness she had become accustomed to. "I saw a vision of danger in the ball that night and knew I had to act quickly. When I arrived where the spirits led me I saw…_him_ and reacted. Anyone else would have done the same, Minerva."

"Perhaps, but it was you. And I am grateful."

Sybil returned to her tea leaves.

"Sybil, I have one more thing to ask of you; a boon, if you will, even though, Merlin knows, you've done enough. Hamish's trial, and that of his son, is to take place in one month's time at the Wizengamot. I wonder if you might consider… telling your story, to the Council, so we might stand a better chance of seeing Hamish McLaggen locked behind his own bars at long last. He has wronged you far more than anyone else, myself and Hermione included and I'd like to finally see justice for what he put you through."

Sybil's breath caught once at the thought of facing her past and she reached instinctively for her wineglass, downing the remainder in a desperate gulp. "I'm afraid that would be impossible, Minerva. I am much more adept at seeing into the future, rather than reading the past. The inner eye does not lie the way memories often do. I am sorry, but I am unable to help you." She stood quickly and tottered for a moment before bracing herself on Minerva's shoulder. She looked down at Minerva and the lucidity was back. It took Minerva's breath away. "She is who the Old Ones have chosen for you, Minerva. Do not let her go," and Sybil Trelawney shuffled from the room.

Minerva sighed and stood, turning to her new love. "Ready to go, leannan? The wee one is nearly asleep in his trifle."

Hermione nodded and stood. "Any luck?"

Minerva shook her head. "Nay, lass, but then, I didn't expect her to agree. They are very old wounds. She is reluctant to open them again. I cannae blame her." She lifted Jasper from his floating seat, wrapped her free arm around Hermione and the little family retreated to their rooms. Classes were to begin in the morning.

Chapter 26

Hermione's life hadn't been overly filled with privacy since her fourth year at Hogwarts, when she had been the focus of Rita Skeeter's dubious journalism. Since then, she and her friends had carried with them a small celebrity status that she had never truly been able to escape. Gossip columns, society pages, magazine articles and people passing her on the street had become much the norm over the years. But when news of both Cormac and Hamish McLaggen being arrested, Hermione's one-year-old child's paternity and her romantic entanglement with the Headmistress of Hogwarts all broke at once, mayhem ensued. The students whispered incessantly both in and out of the classroom, she received daily owls from journalists and biographers begging her to tell her story, and since she remained stalwartly silent, the more ruthless of them, Rita Skeeter included, simply made things up. The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly had a heyday, digging up old stories on all involved parties. Hermione's "date" with Cormac in sixth year was exposed, as was Minerva's old friendship with Hamish and neither witch could go anywhere, with or without Jasper, without a bevy of photographers snapping pictures.

It was driving Hermione mad, and by extension, Minerva too.

"I can't even do my bloody job! The children don't respect me. They're reading Wizarding Quarterly behind the guise of their textbooks right under my nose! I'm not sure how long I can take it, Minerva."

"So give them an interview, Hermione. Tell your side! At the very least it would get them off your back for awhile."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You and I both know that would just make it worse. Besides, I can't speak to the press until after the trial. It would… contaminate evidence or something. I'm sure the Wizengamot would frown on it."

Minerva crossed to her lover who was looking out the window onto the grounds. "It'll go away. Just give it time." She laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione shrugged her off. "It won't. You know it won't. This is the type of story that will just keep getting deeper and broader, until everything I am, everything I've worked to overcome since the war is laid bare once again. They won't stop until the word on my arm is as raw and red as the day it was carved there. They bled me dry then, Minerva and they'll bleed me dry now."

Then, Minerva understood. She was terrified of opening her own old wounds. She had buried those feelings so deep under Ron's love and then under years of sarcasm and carefully built walls and she was petrified at the thought of anyone crashing through those walls.

"So, you come home, to me, and let me fill you up again. You look at Jasper and let him fix the chinks in your armor." She snaked a hand around the back of Hermione's neck and drew her head into the soft space under her chin, where she fit so perfectly. "You go out there and show the world that they cannae get the better of you, because you are stronger and smarter and greater than they can ever hope to be. And when they hurt you, you let me bandage you up, kiss it better and remind you who you really are." She slid the sleeve of Hermione's left arm up to her elbow, exposing the ancient scar that Hermione rarely bothered to glamour anymore. She brought the arm to her lips and spoke her next words against it. "Brilliant, Beautiful, Powerful, Timeless." Their eyes met. "Mine."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "Yours."

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They stood outside the chamber doors. The trial was to start in a few minutes, but Hermione was having trouble walking into the room.

"Be brave, mo ban-leòmhann. I am right here."

She blew a breath from her lips in a 'woosh' and stepped into the Wizengamot chamber.

What followed was a day of invasive questions, veritaserum, reluctant tears and the biggest pensieve Hermione had ever seen. To minimize trauma and economize time, the council had elected for a joint trial for both of the accused. It was humiliating and exhausting and when her testimony was over she shamelessly slumped into Minerva's shoulder and silently wept as the trial moved on around her. Minerva handled her own testimony with her typical stalwart resolve and Hermione's heart swelled with pride at her final statement: "A Scot's pride is rooted in protection of brethren and justice for the wronged. It is a heritage I strive to weave into the very fabric of my life and I am personally offended by a countryman who feels entitled to something not freely given to him."

She had risked a glance at Cormac in that moment and saw him wither slightly as his head dropped.

They took some tea in the Ministry café while awaiting the verdict. Neither of them spoke, but took comfort in the presence of the other.

The verdict was unsurprising.

"Cormac McLaggen, you are found guilty of assault, rape, conspiracy and illegal use of a memory charm. You shall be confined to Azkaban for a period of twenty years, followed by ten years of magical binding. On your sixty-first birthday, you may report back to these chambers to have your magic unbound and your wand returned to you. You will then be monitored by Aurors for the remainder of your natural life. Any attempt to contact your victims, magically or otherwise, will be punished to the fullest extent of the law. May you find mercy and peace in your confinement."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She was free.

"Hamish McLaggen, you are found guilty of conspiracy, trespassing, assault and attempted illegal use of a memory charm. You are hereby stripped of your post at Azkaban and your wand. You will be magically bound for a period of ten years and are to be banished to the penal colony on Antarctica for the entirety of that time. After ten years, you are to be evaluated for your suitability to return to society. If your return is granted, you will be monitored by Aurors for the remainder of your natural life. Any attempt to contact your victims, magically or otherwise, will be punished to the fullest extent of the law. May you find mercy and peace in your confinement."

"Damn." Hermione stated. Ten years wasn't nearly enough. "If we had only had Sybil."

"Dinnae worry, leannan. I'll never let him near you. Besides," she whispered smugly, "every soul in that penal colony was once a prisoner in Azkaban, and was likely tormented by Hamish himself. If he makes it out of Antarctica alive and sane, I'll eat the Sorting Hat."

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They arrived back at Hogwarts late that night, after a quick stop in Surrey to retrieve Jasper from his grandparents. Minerva was nearly holding Hermione up as they trod through the door into the sitting room.

The exhausted brunette collapsed onto the sofa and hugged her son to her, letting silent tears drop onto the top of his head. Minerva knelt in front of her and rubbed her knees affectionately. "Mo chridhe."

Hermione let out a shaky breath and attempted a smile. "I'm so glad it's over." Tears were still slipping down her cheeks. "I'm completely wrung out. How is it possible to feel like I could sleep for a year and run for an hour all at one time?" She reached a hand out and wandlessly released her lover's hair from its business-like confinement. "You were bloody brilliant today, darling. I fell in love with you all over again."

Minerva smiled and stood, lifting Jasper from Hermione's arms. She felt the emptiness profoundly and sighed. "Aye, weel. Ya werna sae bad yerself, leannan. Yer a fine, braw lass with a heart of steel. Tha mo ghion ort."

"I love you too." Hermione smiled and Minerva lifted an eyebrow in surprise. Turning her attention to a sleeping Jasper.

"Mummy's been studying her gaelic, aye mac?" She turned and left the room to put Jasper down.

While she was gone, Hermione poured two tumblers of Minerva's finest scotch, threw one back and poured another for herself as Minerva re-entered the room.

She only got a sip or two of her second helping down when Minerva's slim arms circled her waist and soft lips began exploring her neck. She subtly removed the glasses from Hermione's hands, threw back her own scotch and deposited them on the table. "I have a better remedy for your anxiety than booze, mo nighean donne," and, without preamble, she lifted Hermione into her arms and made for their bedroom, speaking in hushed tones the entire way. "I intend to make you forget about the evil men we punished today, about the wicked press who wilna leave you in peace and about the nosy students who are making your job difficult. The only two people on the earth right now are you and I, beautiful one, and I intend to make you forget about yourself for a bit as well. And I assure you, lass. My method is far more pleasant than a memory charm, aye?" She lowered a breathless Hermione to the bed and followed her, covering her face and neck with gentle kisses before meeting her lips.

In the meantime, Hermione had managed to unfasten all of Minerva's layers of teaching robes, leaving only the sage green, cotton undershift between her hands and her love. "Take me, Minerva. I need you."

And Minerva did. She slid confident hands underneath Hermione's modest, tea-length skirt, finding and removing her knickers, before making an exploratory swipe with one finger, finding her lover already wet and ready. She smiled broadly and Hermione took it upon herself to remove her shirt and bra while Minerva burrowed beneath her skirt. Removal of more clothing was unnecessary as Minerva's tongue flicked out and tasted Hermione, causing the latter to arch from the bed and thrust more of herself into Minerva's waiting mouth. Hermione's cries echoed through the bedchamber as Minerva brought her closer and closer to release before letting her sink back down into a slow burn of arousal, one hand guiding her hips, the other teasing a hardened nipple. She brought her to the precipice again with deep strokes of her tongue, before letting her back down, once again. "Dammit Minerva! Please don't tease. Let me come, I beg you. Oh God!" Minerva smiled and left her lover just long enough to remove the skirt that was hindering the view of the beautiful face above her.

"All right, leannan. Come for me," and she focused her tongue on the bundle at Hermione's apex and watched, rapt as Hermione's hands buried themselves in her hair, her hips came to meet her, her head arched back and her mouth opened wide and soundless as she climbed the hill of her arousal one last time. Then an almighty scream tore from Hermione's lungs as she tumbled over the edge into an orgasm that neither thought would ever end. Hermione's pleasure brought Minerva to completion as she moaned into Hermione's mons and kissed her way up the soft body to meet rosy lips.

Hermione's hands were still buried in Minerva's hair as she drew her close and kissed her until neither could breathe, tasting herself on Minerva's tongue. "I love you, Minerva. God, I love you so very much. That was glorious, darling. Never ever let me go." The next few moments were more of the same. Hermione whispering love into Minerva's ear and Minerva breathing in Hermione's scent, her essence, her life.

When their breath evened and heartbeats fell into sync with each other, Minerva flopped over and drew Hermione into the nook of her arm. "Sleep, Leannan. Sleep knowing that I love you and that tomorrow is a new day and that day is the beginning of a new life for us."

Hermione lifted her head sleepily. "Yeah? How so?"

Minerva's Mona Lisa smile was back. "Tomorrow, mo gràdh, I commence wooing."

Hermione laughed and snuggled closer and both were asleep in moments.

A/N: Only an epilogue left, followed by some ideas for further exploration of this little world and shameless request for reader input. Please R&R.


	14. Epilogue

A/N: Well. This is it. We had a rocky start with this fic. Thanks those who stuck with me. A proper thank you and more notes at the end. Apologies for the delay. My wife had surgery. I had to wait until she was recovered a bit before giving this proper attention.

Epilogue

Fifteen Years Later

Hermione did one final check of her potions stores and did a sweep of the ward. The only patients currently were both suffering from Quidditch damage. Leisl Gudbrand took a bludger to the belly five minutes into the match and Rex Orkney was badly burned when he reached into a flagrante bush to pull out the snitch. Both were recovering nicely, but had to keep at opposite ends of the ward as Hermione had already broken up a ridiculous near-duel between the two, despite the fact that neither could effectively stand.

With a flick of her wand, she shut curtains around each of the sleeping teens and marched out of the hospital wing.

Upon shutting the door to the ward she leaned against the wall and ran a tired hand across her throbbing forehead. Since Madam Pomfrey had taken a year-long sabbatical, and Hermione had put in place a healer training program for the sixth and seventh years, she felt like she had been burning the candle at both ends all year. Minerva had been gone for a week and Filius had asked Hermione if she would take care of ten-o-clock rounds tonight. All she wanted was to fall into bed with a good book and sleep until Monday.

"Keep moving Hermione, you're almost done," she whispered to herself.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," a husky voice answered her unexpectedly from a dark alcove next to her. Before Hermione knew it a strong hand had wrapped around her wrist and pulled her into the shadows and against the cold stone wall.

Hermione gasped, reaching for her wand. "What the –?" She was cut off by earnest lips crashing against her own. Her fear and defensiveness melted away as familiar arms circled her waist and soft curves pressed her deeper against the stones. "Darling, you're home," she sighed as Minerva's lips descended to her neck, attempting to explore the spaces hidden by her robes. "I've missed you so."

"Mmmm."

Hermione laughed heartily. "Unhand me woman. I have to make rounds tonight. Put your libido on hold for an hour until I round up the errant teenagers and bring them to you for punishment. It will give you plenty of time to work up a good snit for giving out detentions."

"Nay lass. I must have you first, so I can be lenient on the heathens when you round them up." She went back to her activity and her next words were mumbled against Hermione's delectable neck. "You feel so good, Leannan. I hated being away so long." Her left hand began working Hermione's robes up around her waist while her right entwined with Hermione's left as the younger witch caught the firelight dancing across the green jasper set into the Celtic knot of her wedding ring. Instinctively, her free hand caught Minerva's matching jasper ring and brought it to her lips, before guiding it back down to continue its quest.

"Alright, darling, but make it quick. We wouldn't want to be caught shagging in the corridors like our charges, now would we." Her voice had gone breathy and her eyes lost their focus as Minerva's fingers found their promised land.

"Aye." Minerva responded and kissed Hermione deeply. The kiss deepened and continued as she brought her lover to a quick and quiet completion against the wall outside the hospital wing.

Hermione panted as she came back to herself and found Minerva's mossy green eyes. "Off, wicked Scot." She gave Minerva a final heated kiss and shoved her playfully. "I have a job to do. I'll repay the favor later." The glint in her eye made Minerva week in the knees as she watched Hermione saunter away.

Just before she turned the corner she stopped and spun around, remembering the reason for Minerva's trip. "Wait! Minerva. What of McLaggen? How did the hearing go?"

Minerva crossed to her so she didn't have to shout.

"Crazy as a Snorkack, Leannan. It's worse than five years ago. Once again, they can't release him from Antarctica because he can't even dress himself. The other inmates are relentless, and if my instincts serve, the guards aren't particularly kind either. We won't be seeing him for a good long time, my love. Rest easy."

Hermione breathed a grand sigh of relief and departed with a loving stroke to Minerva's soft cheek. "I'll be home soon."

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Hermione felt a little wobbly as she moved up and down the corridors looking for misbehaving teens. Most nights, these evening patrols were uneventful; unnecessary, even. But, inevitably, the one night they chose to overlook them, would be the night something truly disastrous would happen. Tonight, it appeared, would not be one of those nights.

She yawned broadly as she clipped from the third to the second floor and wondered for the dozenth time why she wasn't, in fact, in bed with her wife. As she started down the second floor corridor a faint burning sensation on her sternum alerted her. She looked down to see the red jasper pendant glowing softly. She turned on her heel and back up the stairs, tearing at a dead run towards Gryffindor Tower. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and her booted heels clomped on the stones and she almost didn't hear the strangled shout coming from the classroom on her left.

She banged through the door, brandishing her wand to find her son, floating in the air above the desks upside down. On the floor below stood James Potter and Colleen Finnegan, wands in hand, looking horrified.

"Mum!" Jasper yelled.

"Jasper Horatio Granger McGonagall, what in the bloody hell are you doing out of bed at this hour?"

"Auntie Hermione!" "Professor McGonagall!" "We can explain!" came the simultaneous pleas from all three guilty students.

Without letting Jasper down, she crossed her arms and leaned against a desk. "I'm waiting."

The three exchanged glances and Jasper sighed as James and Colleen found their shoes very interesting. "Fine," Jasper began, "maybe explain isn't the right word. Uncle George needed some help with research and development. He's giving each of us 10 galleons to help him perfect his bubble up potion, but we overdid the pixie wings and I got stuck on the ceiling. I think he tricked me."

"Oh, well spotted, son. A shocker that your Uncle George would trick you. That doesn't explain why you are out of the Tower and out of bed after curfew."

The children looked abashed. "There isn't another good place, or time. George said we had to keep it secret." He shrugged as much as he could while suspended upside down. "How did you find us?"

Hermione held up her jasper pendant.

"Bollocks, I hate that bloody necklace." He looked up at his own, dangling from his neck reaching towards the ground, still glowing faintly.

"Language, young man. And be glad you were wearing it," she scolded as she brought him down on his feet abruptly with a flick of her wand. "Would either of you have known how to counter the potion?" She looked at her son's comrades.

"No ma'am." They both confessed.

"Yes, well, see? You could have been stuck up there all night; and as it is Friday, probably much of the weekend too. Come, all three of you. We're going to see the Headmistress. Maybe you'll have a better explanation for her?"

Jasper perked up immediately. "Min's home? When did she get here?"

Hermione softened a little at Jasper's enthusiasm to see his mother. "Just a bit ago. She came to see me in the hospital wing before I started rounds. Now, march, the three of you. I'm still angry." But the curl at the corner of her mouth belied her feelings just a bit.

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Upon arrival at the stone gargoyle, Hermione turned to James and Colleen. "Would the two of you wait out here for a few minutes? I'd like Jasper to have a word alone with his mother." She cast an alarm charm around them. "This charm will alert me immediately if you try to sneak off, so don't get any ideas, understood?"

They nodded and returned their gazes to their shoes.

"Wondrous Strange" Hermione spoke the password to the gargoyle and it whirled up, revealing its staircase. Jasper took the stairs two at a time as Hermione followed at a measured pace.

Upon reaching the door, Jasper knocked excitedly and bounced on his toes, looking far younger than his sixteen years.

"Enter." Minerva called, and Jasper opened the door.

Minerva smiled widely and opened her arms to her son. "Jasper! Whatever are you doing out of bed, lad? Dhomh do glac a teann."

Jasper sunk into his mother's arms. "Halo Màthair. Tha mi gad ionndrainn gu mòr."

"I've missed you to, prìseil." Mother and son basked in each other's presence for a moment before Minerva met Hermione's eye over Jasper's strong shoulder. The elder witch took in her wife's crossed arms and perturbed smirk and brought Jasper away to look into his cinnamon eyes. "I can only assume, since you are in my office at this ungodly hour, that you have gotten yourself into trouble again, aye mac?

Jasper blushed and looked ashamed. Minerva turned on her Headmistress persona. "Jasper, this can't keep happening. Just because you grew up in this castle does not make you exempt from the rules. You, more than anyone, must set an example for your housemates."

"How is that fair? Just because my mothers run this school, I can't have any fun!"

At this, Hermione stepped in. "Fun is one thing, Jas, breaking rules and cheeky backtalk is quite another."

"Oh come on, Mum, Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron say you three got into all sorts of mischief while you were in school. They both say you three drove Min nuts!"

Hermione fumed and turned crimson. "You will not compare my school experience to yours, Jasper McGonagall. It is because of that 'mischief' that you have a school, and a world, to get into trouble in. Ten points from Gryffindor for disrespecting those who fought and died during the war against Voldemort, and another five for reminding your mother how much older she is than me."

"Oy!"

"All right, I take back the extra five. But know this, son, if my childhood escapades in this castle taught me anything, it is that you never know what may be hiding behind the next 'Alohamora'. The rules are in place for a reason, some of them _because_ of me. So, you don't get a pass just because you're our son. Okay?"

"Yes, mum, but can I ask you both something?"

Minerva and Hermione exchanged glances and Hermione nodded slowly.

Jasper took a deep breath and dove in. "Can I stop wearing my pendant, at least in the castle?"

Hermione gasped, hurt, and Jasper continued quickly.

"It's not that I don't appreciate its importance, mum, or what it symbolizes, but it's kinda… cramping my style," he said lamely and looked to his Min for help. "Even you have to admit it's a little hyperactive. It activates anytime I'm working with a delicate potions ingredient and it burns through most of Care of Magical Creatures class. The other day, I waded into the Black Lake to try to get a picture of the Giant Squid and half the school laughed at me because my 'baby monitor' was glowing. It also burned a hole in my quidditch uniform last week! The thing was glowing so bright through the whole match that Ringold thought it was the snitch at one point. Surely you felt it too!" By this point Jasper was pacing back and forth, flailing his hands about, much like Hermione did when she got worked up. "The bloody thing's a menace, Mum. Please. I'm just asking if I can keep it in my bedside drawer."

Through this final exchange, Hermione and Minerva had been having a silent conversation with their eyes, and Hermione knew, despite her better judgement, what their answer had to be. Her eyes filled with silent tears and she waved in Minerva's general direction, indicating that she could be the one to break the news.

"Alright, mac. If that's what you really want, we'll let you go without it, at least for a time. But only if you promise to curb the post-curfew excursions and provided you stay safe and keep up with your studies. Understood?"

Jasper threw himself back into Minerva's arms. "Thank you, Min! Thank you. Mòran taing! I'll be a model student, I swear."

Minerva patted Jasper's head and peered past him at Hermione who was attempting to dry her tears and regain her composure. She took his face in her hands and whispered her next words so only Jasper could hear them. "Now, lad, you need to go hug your mother and tell her you love her. She's having a 'my baby boy is growing up too fast' moment and she needs to know that you still need her on some level, aye?"

Jasper nodded. "Tha mo ghion ort, Min"

"I love you too, gràidhean."

Jasper crossed to Hermione and gathered her smaller frame in his strong arms. "I didn't mean to upset you, Mum. I love you so much." He pulled back from her and pulled her pendant and held it up next to his. "I will always treasure this connection to you and what it's meant to us. And just because you can't feel me anymore, doesn't mean I'm not here. Besides," he continued. "these work both ways. So, if you ever leave this castle to parts unknown, I will once again lay this close to my heart, so that someday, if you require it, I may come to your rescue for once, aye?"

Hermione could no longer keep her tears from escaping her eyes and running down her cheeks. "You sweet, gallant boy." She gushed. "You've picked up your mother's romantic streak, I see." She took his face in her hands. "I love you, Jasper. I'm so proud of you." They smiled identical toothy smiles.

Hermione cleared her throat and pitched an exasperated smile at her wife across the room.

"Now, I'm going to get your comrades and the three of you will face this together. No arguments, and no cheek. Agreed?"

Jasper nodded. "Aontaichte, Mum."

Outside of Minerva's office, Hermione released the alarm charm and looked at James Potter intently. "Hand it over Mr. Potter." With a sad sigh he pulled a spare bit of parchment out of his pocket and passed it to Hermione. "Your Uncle Ron once called me 'brilliant but scary'. Harry is about to be reminded why." And she tucked the Marauder's Map into her robes. "Come along. The Headmistress will see you now," and she followed the son of Harry Potter and daughter of Seamus Finnegan up the gargoyle stairs.

As they entered the office and James and Colleen joined Jasper in front of Minerva's desk, the overworked witch removed her reading glasses, pinched the bridge of her nose and lifted her eyes to the heavens, gathering strength from the ancient Goddesses of Avalon before meeting each of their eyes. "Why is it always you three?"

Crìochnaich (End)

Final A/N: Thank you all so very much for coming on this journey with me. Thank you for your feedback in the form of reviews, follows and favorites. I cherish each and every one. I squeal a little inside each time I get a review from an author I am a fan of, or when someone compares my work to those I consider masterpieces or when an author tells me they have been inspired by my work. There is no greater compliment. This may be the end of this particular story, but there is much in this little "world" to explore. I intend to jump around in space and time here and explore some things I may have touched on in Jasper. So, if you notice plot holes or are wondering why I left something out, it may be that I just intend to explore it in more depth in a different story. That said, please tell me the pitfalls and plot holes you've seen or pieces of the story you would like to see more of. You may have seen something I haven't and I may be inspired by it! As always, your feedback is vital.

A few words on stories going forward. Not all of my future stories will take place in the Jasper universe, and not all of them will be Minerva/Hermione. My main mission here is to bring Hermione the love of a good woman. And if some of my other characters are revealed to be lovers of women along the way, so much the better.

Thank you for the welcome into this little niche community in the HPFF world. I look forward to more fun together.


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